No one believes us, that we could possibly want to spend our lives together—share years and create memories—without a sexual or romantic component. But why can’t we? Ezra is my person. And I’m his. I’ve never questioned it, not once in the last twenty years. I found him, and I knew. I love that man more than I’ll ever love anybody, my own daughter withstanding. Why can’t love, in any form, be enough? People want to shape us into something we’re not because they can’t see the beauty there. They don’t understand it, and I ache with that knowledge. Because don’t they realize? Love is boundless.
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