"They call you smokey taboo."

The more I hear about you from others the less I feel compelled to believe that there is even a fraction of you that I understand, but the more I understand that, the more I want to know every piece of you as a whole. You're like fresh apple pie on the windowsill, too hot to cut open but the smell--God, the smell of you is intoxicating.

I received the trust of your care from someone I never expected, and now I am more than certain that I am perfectly okay with my feelings towards you. I am ready for them, I embrace them.

Now if only you'd come out of hiding...

"For God's sake, dear."

I miss you.