Let Me Tell You About Her… And Her… And Her
Let me tell you something, friend. It always begins the same way. She looks at you. But she does not see you—not the man standing in front of her, not the scars you carry, not the stories folded into the wrinkles around your eyes. She sees a version of you that exists only in her mind. A possibility. A sketch. A ghost of a man who could be—if only. At first, it feels like love. Like being touched without hands. Like someone finally found the part of you that had been waiting in the dark and brought it into … Continue readingLet Me Tell You About Her… And Her… And Her