A Letter Between the Editors

in all the versions of my life that i

stirred up before adolescence i could not

have predicted being loved like this.

sometimes we are so fucking typical

it makes me nauseous. like when

we sit in the yard singing phoebe bridgers

and roll. the days i ask you if i look

"gay enough" but that just makes us

laugh. i love to make your coffee

in the morning (and the afternoons

when we are brave enough

to start a magazine)

this is my favorite thing we have ever

done. do you ever feel like maybe we

had a baby together? or, maybe you

gave birth, and I am a step-dad, “trying

to step up.” thank you for helping me

learn how to grow up, but also

how to love in a way we should have

learned before we got this old. i love you.

i write like this because of you.

i want to sleepover for a week

and miss the smell of your sheets forever.

do you feel that?? it's everywhere, and it's us.

...

it's 12:27am and i have a coffee

mug in front of me, emptied

about 10 minutes ago

and i am sobbing because i am thinking

about how much i love you.

anyways, have you read this piece yet?

i like it, what do you think?