Friday, February 6, 2015
Honest relationships require intimacy.
Intimacy is endless hours of nothing, together. A quantity of choosing the other. These hours are marked by spontaneous moments of connection, made richer for the long walk that got us there.
These moments move, weave, and stitch shared garments. Fitted and worn-in, no one else gets to wear them but us. And now the world is not so cold, so we venture out, boldly.
Yes, we make a mess of things; mud on my jeans, blood on your shirt. We take them to the spin cycle together, where it's a bit chaotic, but we come out clean.