Keeping Harry nearby is a survival tactic. He’s a maelstrom of perpetual destruction, but he’s my rock. He loves me unconditionally. He provides glimmers of hope that I might escape this lifestyle and become the man he needs me to be, the man I need me to be. I blame my inadequacy on the drugs and on my vocation, but these patterns have been with me my entire adult life. Intimacy is ice cream, and sex is vinegar—two things I love, yet the thought of combining them makes me sick to my stomach. I could unfetter him and live a burden-free existence, but that would release the potentiality that I
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