I wanted to feel everything with him. The love of course, and the fun sexy times. Putain, I wanted plenty of those. But I wanted the pain, too. The days when his skies clouded over, and his oceans turned grey and choppy. When his canvases were filled with ugly jagged lines or ripped to shreds before the paint had even dried. When he needed someone to hold him in their arms ready to catch his fall. I wanted to be there for all of that too.
