He reminds me what love is like, but just for a moment. With his arms around me and his lips against me as we lie here in this room. And everyone is watching, and for just a little bit I don’t care. Until, of course, we reach the inevitability of departure, and as I watch him drive off, I wonder, ‘Then what, tomorrow?’ I sit in my bedroom and ponder what happens to love when these text messages go unreturned. And the fact that I’m fully aware that some things are fleeting, and other feelings are fake, but I would just like to get high on the feeling of him, close to me. Close to me physically, but just another person, and can I ever truly be close to another living person? When these days float by, and when I see him again will I find the love that filled me up at four a.m. on a Saturday night in a bedroom filled with people with glass trays covered with white powder in neat little lines? Was it just a moment in my mind, resigned to last week, and now I am wanting a repeat of the same sensation but I don’t know where to find it. How can I get high on love all the time. How can I be desired all the time. How can I make my heart flutter every day, even when the pretext of the situation is the mystery of the mutual descent into the uncharted territory of another person. This doesn’t have to mean anything, or it could mean everything, but so long as it can happen over and over and over again – that’s all that matters to me right now.