Ten years ago, I asked Joey, afraid of his answer, “You’re in love with me aren’t you?”
He said, “Yes.”
I was angry and ready to run away.
He was my friend.
He wasn’t supposed to fall in love.
He immediately added, “But if I love you that way and I would lose you then I won’t love you that way. I’m offering myself as a home--- you can fly all you want and when you get tired, you come home to me.”
I was 19.
He was 23.
I thought: I found the highest form of love.
But I had yet to choose him.
He had to dump me for me to do that.
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