The most genuine smile you had never worn,
until last evening.
And I was particularly very fortunate to have been the addressee.
Our days and nights are replenished with versatile discussions just like usual. Canada’s newly elected national bird, car insurance deals, your brand new pair of Nike LunarGlide, Hwang Kyo-ahn, Empire of the Sun’s Two Vines, my new hair dyes in ebony, et cetera. Although mostly it is me consuming the knowledge you shared, rather than explicating my own opinions or emotions towards those things, being opposite of what you’re always doing and being utterly good at.
Some days I fear of being the cause of boredom—since you’re always the storyteller and never have I ever not been the quiet, yet curious kid with hunger for bedtime stories. It almost feels as if I would sure perfectly remember your voice and every peculiar accent of yours while you could perhaps easily forget mine—which I wouldn’t even be surprised about. But the fact that you’re staying, sticking with myself, constantly coming back with new subject matters every day, exalts me. Maybe, you’re in need of a person who would actually believe all the hypothesis that you smart ass invent, while I’m simply in need of
perpetual supply of your presence.
Either way, we’re symbiotically livening each other here.
Such a sweet companion you are to the desolation that I consciously create around myself. If my lust towards ease is Yin, you’d be the Yang that balances it with the obscure sort of sparks you offer. Arousing, but sedating at the same time. Happy pills to my daily dose of anxiety. A lucrative supplement.
A secret worth holding back. A truth worth never told.
A crave worth never having.