Whenever I see something beautiful, I stop and stare. I sort of revel in it's existence. I feel privileged to be witnessing something so beautiful, and to have been paying  enough attention to realize it's presence. I've always been like this. My instinct is to see something unique, to love it and then to be happy until it goes away.

My mother thinks this is what's wrong with me.

For my mother and sister, when they see something beautiful or unique, when they experience something enjoyable, they want to grab it, contain it and control it.

My mother says, if I knew any better I'd be married by now.

I like loving men. They are a counterpart to myself, that very unknowable, so desirable "other." I like what they write, how they talk and the noises they make. I like the way they eat and their facial expressions. I like the gait of their walk and how their posture changes in different situations. I like comparing his natural everyday voice with his whisper voice when he's on top of me. I like noticing if his snoring is completely random or if there is some underlying pattern that will reveal itself if I listen long enough. I like the way he can be surprisingly tender and vulnerable, I like that sometimes, I can make him happy.

I don't know much about relationships or being a girlfriend or being a wife or a mother. But I do know something about loving someone because they inspire you to be more than you thought possible. I know about loving someone because it's the most natural and wonderful thing you've ever done in your life. I may not have your ring on my finger or have given birth to the child you love. I am just someone who loves you and will continue to love you because you are beautiful, talented, and endlessly amazing.