I am watching as the workers are preparing the materials to build the wall in my loft. I am turning my back to them, I don’t want them to feel spied on. They probably wish I wasn’t here today, but I need to be. I need to see the beginning of it… I feel it might help reduce the shock value of entering the house in a couple of days and see that wall up, for good.
It’s not the wall in itself, it’s why the wall is going up, what took me to the place of building it. The space will feel smaller soon and has to be rearranged, less light will be allowed in… and within a few weeks, he, my best friend, will be moving in, will inhabit the space behind the wall.
He is the brother I never had. The love I have for him is, I believe, the purest kind there is because it has no agenda. Love mixed with sex always has an agenda in the end. That love always needs to evolve, is based on building something together, on expectations. The love I have for him is devoid of what usually ruins love.
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