Progress Report

How blessed I am that he is such a good sport. How blessed I am that he is kind and welcoming and grateful. How blessed I am that he exists at all in my life.

I am moving on. I am progressing.

As I hugged him, my face buried in his chest and our arms around each other, each slight movement or adjustment being noted like a lovesick cat, I had no thoughts of my past or the other boys who I have loved and lost. There was no comparison, no memories. Just me and him and a big puddle of happy friendshipness.