Two men, enraptured then entwined. Their covenant bound by lingering gazes draped in velvet umber depth and sealed by deep indulgent undulation. Their love not only defined in the other but through acceptance for oneself, they grew closer. Yet, despite their musings of youthful grandiose, a mercurial shift severs their spirits abruptly. Disjointed by duty to material obligations and affectionate subjugation, decades pass and layers compound the expanse in the form of busy lives, different longitudes, and seperate struggles. Yet, amid the turmoil, a brief respite by random yet fixed invocation: check-ins. Always, there but never in proximity. Each call like crimson words, rich with tannin, their feelings filling their mouths. However, their glasses are crafted in distance and the air filled with cautious approach. The notes too subjective, ripe with seperate experiences, linguistic definitions took on multiple meanings as each conversation ended with “love you, man!”

An abbreviated version:

I think when you end our chats with “love you, man”, and I reply with the same goodbye, it means different things to the both of us. When you say it, it feels like “it was good seeing you, my friend” and when i say it, it means, “ive never stopped loving you”.