The final gift

The philosopher called. That was all that was needed. The last piece that was needed to make it a perfect day.

Almost a perfect day.

If he had been here, then it would have been perfect.

But this was quite perfect enough.
And I am content.
Content and very very happy.

He said he's glad I'm back with my demon muse. He thinks he's good for me. And he's right. He is good for me. He is just what I need.

I remember a year ago, when the philosopher was deconstructing from assorted stress, he suggested that maybe I needed someone down here to spank me and take care of my assorted needs. And I answered in a panic, oh NO, no way, it's too dangerous, relationships get all messed up like that.

But I don't feel like that now. Not in this case. I seem to have everything parceled out, everyone in his own box. And the feelings I have for the demon, strong as they may be, don't at all interfere with my love for the philosopher. They are different, they don't contradict, they don't dilute, I have room for gallons and gallons of strong feelings and they don't get mixed up.

I am very lucky to have both of them.

Not to mention the Irishman, whom I expect to see every so often. We have a little arrangement. I'm happy about that. We both are.

I feel complete.
I feel strong.
I feel happy.

I am happy.

Good night, John.

i love you...