for em, heading east

to be your friend is to feel like I’m perennially on the inside of a delicious secret. we traffic in knowing glances, hands held, laughter moored to hilarious somethings and sometimes very little; somehow the source never seems to matter. people say ‘what’s going on between you two?’ and the answer is ‘nothing.’ or maybe everything. who knows? It’s an essence, and it’s ours. ⠀
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you brim with soulful sensitivity and an appreciation for small pleasures, my partner in losing it when the beat drops – in that weird warehouse, on a strip of palm-punctured sand, astride some leonard or another – or before a well-stocked erewhon bev case. you are invariably present and mercifully gentle with people’s hearts. for almost a decade, you’ve been taking me by surprise with your incisive wisdom and singular wit, our resident crop-top buddha, and your musings only get better on paper. your writing is a gift, em. know that the world is better with your work in it.⠀
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this next chapter is yours for the taking and distance be damned I’ll be rooting you on every page of it. if it’s true we’re all searching for something and settling for tequila, I’m grateful to be knocking them back with you.⠀
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I love you siempre. I miss you already. here’s to you, emmy bear.