Houston, we have a problem…

Maaaaan, so the dreams have already been a level of intensity that I was not prepared for. Men are not supposed to… at my age… and it's not like I don't…………

But, no… now there's a new problem — not that I'm complaining.

I'll be driving somewhere, or doing some other mindless task, something where my mind will start drifting…

Honey. The other day, I drove to the grocery store. Then I sat in the car for a few moments because some errant train of thought had popped up on the way over, and had got me into such a state that I had legitimate fears that just the wrong bit of fabric moving in just the right way would cause… issues. After a while, I gave up and just went on home… that errand would have to wait for another day. And, again, it's not like I don't………

Makes me wonder, maybe the thing with being a 17-year-old boy isn't just that you're young and dumb and, well, you know… but that the world seems so absolutely full of possibility… and things only really settle as that boy becomes a man because reality sinks in and the realm of possibility narrows…

And, that's the thing. It's not even the details of what you might be into.

It's that you might be into something. With so very many possibilities.

And so suddenly it all seems real again. Possible, again.

And add to that the fact that those possibilities are with you…

You, the woman whose smile still melts my heart, every single time… whose interests seem to collide so neatly with mine… whose heart is so pure and so sweet… the woman whose magical hips are so intoxicating, so absurdly, impossibly, obscenely sexual that I could spend whole entire lifetimes worshiping them, and only them, and never even start to tire of it…

I mean, fuck, man. Got-damn. You in those jeans the other night…

Shit. I have never even once stood a chance.

I dunno, babe. Something's about to bust.

And I think it's me…

Part of me, at any rate.

Hmmm. I mean, I got this, but… any old time you feel up to lending a hand…

Well, you know where I am.

😘