First off, I feel like I should expand on what I meant yesterday. The best night of my life. The most comforting experience, the best life I have lived, the fucking sweetest I have felt that I can remember, was the night before I came back to New York and I was in bed stone cold sober with Dexter. And he whispered to me that he loved me, and I whispered back, right into his ear. No one else would have been avle to hear even if they had been in the same bed with us. And it felt like we shred something. To me, it felt that way. I don't know about him, but I like to think so. I felt his breath on my neck. But I felt more than just that, I felt him on me. On top of me. In me. And I was so safe I couldn't possibly ask for anything better. Only for him, to stick around for a few more moths, years, lifetime.

And I love that Joseph Conrad quote from the last entry.

Too tired to write more. I love. I say it too much; I always do this. I say it so much it probably doesn't mean anything to Dexter anymore, when all I want is for him to know that it grows every minute, every day. That I am dead serious when I say I cold love him forever, and I will. I have loved two boys before, and I will always. I hate one of them, but I still love Chris. And Scott, who the fuck knows what's up with him. I dated him for so long, I can't believe I still have no idea what is going on in that boys head. No idea at all. That's why I think Dexter and I get along best together: we understood each other from the start, without answering without asking without wondering we knew it all. And I love that.