Dear Denial,
I have written you a thousand love letters, why don’t you write me back? Sometimes- when I am waiting in line at the supermarket, feeding my dogs or even in that fractional moment of repose between the sentences of a stream of consciousness rant- I find myself longing for your sweet embrace. As clandestine as our relationship is, this infatuation is not borne of a crazy, fumbling un-buttoning of a new sordid affair. No, this is comfortable love. Steady. Consistent. A rock solid, enduring, enveloping love. I think you are my safe place. It is undeniable that you have loved me too, Denial, I mean… I have always found you popping up, showing through, proving yourself to be the reaction I no longer bother registering. You lure me to a place that is so much nicer than The Everyday. You make it beautiful, you make it okay.
