I put pen to paper, intending on writing a post for a speech therapy clinic, and instead began writing about him, the man I began dating long after I left an abusive situation. His warmth was on my mind, and I missed his touch. I don’t often write about him, perhaps because I want to keep him to myself, but I am grateful for his presence in my life. He had been a friend for nearly a decade, and we slowly fell for each other over the years.
I might not often write about the amazing things in my life, but they are indeed there.