we're dreaming and, for the first time, the possibilities are open for me. i'm not on track anymore to be the type of person i thought i would be, especially coming from the side of the tracks i do. but you don't mind. you take the parts of me that i thought were ugly and turn them into something to be protected, knowing it's an aspect of healing that's life-long. there are no endings, here; we never fully become healed, do we?

sometimes i worry that you're too good to be real, but then it's like you read my mind and reassure me everything is coming true. you follow through. you do what you say you're going to. you actually care, not just about your own status in this entanglement of ours, but about me and how i'm feeling. why? what do you get out of it?

i think a lot of us on my planet are just used to people using one another. there's no empathy, no selflessness; these are weak traits—ones that will get you killed, or worse: alone. see, on my planet, there's only two things that matter: yourself and your contribution to the society at large. does it matter that you can't actually produce anything, if that's what your purpose is? everyone has a role to play, and i hadn't quite figured out the rules 'til i met you.

just the small things that i missed out on makes me swell with rage. there's no such thing as altruism—a word i just learned only a few moments ago, listening to you talk about the charity you want to start. the philanthropy you want to do, investing in raising young kings. and i want to do it with you. my blood pressure stabilizes; my nervous system begins to even out.

i've never quite known this feeling, but my connection to my planet is detaching; you're now home to me. i always knew i wasn't meant for my world, but only you have shown me how valuable that truly is.

pour another?