A tiny almost imperceptible figure was huddled under the covers. It was his bed but there was someone else in it. He turned to leave but her voice stopped him. "You can come and take a nap with me if you'd like." He craved the intimacy of her head on his shoulder. Tonight he needed her; needed her touch, her love. She moved closer to him. Her back sighed against his chest, she turned to face him while his hand wandered up to the braid in her hair. I love you Lana. You feel so right in my bed. I would do anything for you. I wish there was a way I could show you and tell you how much I love you.

You're the only friend I have who always loves me and believes in me. Please don't ever leave me. He shifted and pulled her closer to him. She was so soft. So soft and so sweet. So utterfy feminine. She was fresh and lovely and innocent. Nothing about her was contrived or artificial. Her ivory cheek kissed his pillow while her knowing green eyes read his mind. Truly she was a goddess of wisdom in the war of his life. A feeling of profound cotentment settled over him. He wrapped a curl around his finger and smiled.

avalyn,

I meet so few people that I like in this world that I have very little vocabulary with which to express my affection for someone, so I apologize if this writeup does not sound much like a love letter. It is one, I assure you.

I thrive on bitterness and snark. In e2, as in life, I downvote almost everything I see. I am impatient and brusque, relentlessly academic in my outlook and elitist in my personal dealings. On good days I take pride in this aspect of myself -- it means I reject mediocrity and stupidity. But on bad days, like today, it makes me feel small and petty. Worse, it means I'm often inarticulate when it comes to the things that really matter.

Like you.

Over against the massive "them" that makes up the world, I consider you part of "us." I always have. You are gentler than I am, which I respect you for, but you don't suffer fools and you are rigorously elitist in your tastes. I've always thought that you balance kindness and wickedness better than I manage to, and I look forward to the day we can meet and combine our joys with our fury.

I know that you do not believe in an afterlife in the sense that most people in our culture think of it. But I am hoping you will gain faith in a much more modest sense of an afterlife: a life after Katrina, a life after these awful days you've been forced to spend alone and hungry in Tennessee. I pray you wake up to a new world some day -- a world where you can spend time with the people who love you, and where you realize you are not alone in either your kindness or your rage.

hapax

P.S. I think you're hot.