Like a dream.
This is how it ‘should be’.
There will come a time when you finally open up to him about everything painful and difficult and life-changing that’s ever happened to you in your past. There will come a time when the demons will resurface and everything you’ve been bottling up inside of you for so long will come spilling out, like when you pour honey from a jar – slow to start, then like a constant running stream, flooding out of you so fast that you can barely manage to contain it.
He will lie there, next to you, staring fixatedly into your eyes as he listens patiently to all of your stories and memories and confessions until you are done. And even when you finally pull the honey jar away and return it to its upright position, there will always be some extra that tends to escape down the sides, just like the words that keep…
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