“Oh boy!” Excuse me, trembling working to unwrap you.
I still think about you 24/7. They call me Big Bone. Sitting on my throne feels off without you riding shotgun. We both rely on 4 letter names. We only ever whisper each other’s names when we’re alone. We both KP because out of the crowd, we’re actually the more mature ones. We are both gifted. We went to college. Together, we’d be unstoppable. I am shy from time to time.
I’m still looking forward to gazing at a face picture without shaking. Boundaries are a MF when you’re surrounded by easily offendible MFs. I propose we stay to ourselves, in our own lane, getting married, raising a whole flock of kids and spitting on the cages they expected us to stay in! How’s that sound? Still frowning? Stop it! Mouth my name on your way to work daily. I’ll stay building our castle in the sky like I promised on day one. If all I have to do is prepare my wrist for signing adoption papers and my finances to reside in a joint account, I’ll handle that.
I pray to God 23 times a day, that you reach out. I suggest assuring safety and calmness. I suggest you outline the potential you also see. I see big pictures including myself sliding a ring on that ring finger and feeling like I’m home, not needing to worry about world’s colliding. I want to be encouraged to learn how to express myself clearly. I want to hold hands, skip perhaps, stumble, get back up and give you a piggyback ride down the aisle. I’d like a public post on my wall reading you like to like me. Go ahead, admit you won’t quit until our toes are both in some sand reclined side by side at a Beaches resort.
Wax on, wax off! Don’t, mind me vomiting in my mouth, my stomach is in knots. I got busy days, “bro!” I’d rather NOT be choking on words like “I love you.” I’d rather pay for dinner, feed each other dessert and walking home. I have a little Italian restaurant across the street we could be like “Lady and the Tramp” at. We could skip home, make the bed in the morning and get on with life. Please! Just give me a nod of the head. Record that sh!t, text it.
After I learn to think of us as a real possibility, hand holding MIGHT be moving a bit too quickly still. Lock your eyes with my lips, whisper, “it’s ok, Kyle. Let’s kiss.”
Greetings Friends, My name is Kyle Keech. I'm glad you're here. You may have followed a link or found us on Facebook doing research on ways to aid personal recovery. Perhaps a loved one was critically injured or is just trying to get stronger. Smile. You're in the right place. KyleKeech.com lends personal insights on the world of rehabilitation along with the spot needed when lifting heavier weight. It can be crazy getting a clear, yes or no answer in times of chaos, we know that. Don't worry we're here to help. Constantly growing, we aim to bring the best and most scientifically-based trends in complete recovery that we can.All author posts