I think I’m falling in love, dear reader. These past few days have been, uh, tumultuous to say the least. I met someone. I probably am, I’m quick to do that. I don’t even really know where to start.

So we met in a bar where everyone else was naked. We, I think, thought one another were naked as well when we started talking. It turned out in the end that we were not. We spent a very long time talking that first night. About all sorts of things. Getting naked, of course, came up, but it wasn’t ever really like that. The way we met made it easy to be so much more emotionally intimate than you can ever really get when you don’t meet incognito. Which was something that you, dear reader, may have noticed I’ve been lacking for the past while. Long while, some might say.

You might even say that that was a part of the problem here, from the start. But that’s too much to get into right now.

So anyway, we met anonymously and got to talking and I got to having a lot of fun. I just get in this zone where the right thing to say to get someone to laugh or blush or just feel _good_ just pops right into my skull, right at the front. And all I ever have to do is just reach up and pluck it right out of thin air. It’s not all the time, and it’s not for just anyone, but when I can slide in right where I wanna be? It’s almost scary how untouchable I feel. Not almost, actually. It is scary. But there is much more important game before us today than the terrifying contents of my own skull.

And after getting away from the bar, we kept talking. For hours and hours, just talking. A lot of it was the kinds of cutesy things you say to someone you’ve just met and want desperately to like you, but a lot of it wasn’t, also. A lot of it was also gritty. The kinds of things you only talk about with someone you’re either going to fall in love with, or never speak to again.

And then we parted ways. I wasn’t sure if we’d ever talk again. I was hoping we would, but I didn’t really expect it. I was just happy to have gotten the practice and made someone seem genuinely happy for a little bit. And then I was off of work the next day. Quite lucky for this instance, because the next day it was like we had never quit. We were starting to get more personal now, too. Not just intimate like, deep emotional discussions. I mean, we were really talking about our lives. Like, this might actually be going somewhere.

And then the bottom dropped out completely. I asked him about his hobbies, he asked about mine. I told him I was part of a small community, he said he was too, and then he stopped talking. Got up and started walking out the door, so to speak. It was not my finest hour. In that moment I realized that this was a real Thing I had on my hands, all of a sudden. And all of a sudden, I realized I didn’t wanna lose it. I may have sounded like I was begging. If you ask him, he’d probably say it was sweet. I didn’t know or care. I only cared about getting this boy on the other end of the phone to just listen to me for one more second. Just one more second and I can fix this.

And well, I’m here, so he did stop. He did listen. Whether it was me who fixed it or some divine intervention on my behalf is beyond my abilities of deduction. It was probably just pure dumb luck, just like the rest of it. Or maybe it was all divine intervention. He’d probably say the same thing.

And we talked. It was hard and it sucked for a while but we got there. We were, it turned out, from the same small community. He had had reason to leave it, however, and didn’t want to mingle with anyone that might recognize him. I told him something similar had happened to me. And then there we were. Non Anon. Just like that.

And we just kept talking. And we never really stopped, either. We talked until the sun went down. We slept, briefly, and talked away the whole next day, too. And I know that if I hadn’t had to be at work the next next day, we would’ve kept going. I mean, at this point I was already in love, really. Let’s not beat around the bush here. There was never, ever going to be a world where I could talk to someone for 48 hours straight and not fall in love with them. It’s just not how I roll. I guess I’m a hopeless romantic. If I were to choose a different word for it, however, it’d be more crass and totally and hopelessly impolite.

And all of that was only about a week ago. Today’s Christmas Adam, like my uncle Chris says. The boy on the phone already got me a Christmas present. I’m a genuinely horrible person, so I have only promised him one, and it’s a vague promise at that. But I intend to follow up if it kills me.

And he’s why I’m writing this, too. Obviously, he’s what I’m writing about in a literal sense. But he’s also the reason that I am typing away on this horrible keyboard laptop at this very moment. I told him I wanted to be a writer, and he told me I had better go on and actually do it then.

He’s good for me, I think. Maybe I’m insane. Or maybe I’m just doing insane things because that’s what love makes you do. I want to give the world to this boy, and I think, just maybe, that he might want to do the same for me. And he’s smart, and self aware, and funny, and cute, and I could keep going for about as long as I’ve been writing this bloody thing already. To say that I’m the luckiest guy in the world is trite to the point of meaninglessness if you ask me. But I really don’t know what else to say about it all. It’s as if Heaven opened up and sent down a delivering angel.