We started in the closet and ended up on the floor. You carried me out or in, I don’t remember but you did carry me. We found your old lego box in the closet and played around on the hard rug, my elbows in pain from putting pressure on them while listening to your childhood stories involving each little lego piece.
A feeling we often take for granted is the feeling of someone telling us intimate stories only they know. And knowing you’re one of the few people that’s heard that story. Maybe you’re the only person that ever has and ever will. And for a moment you feel more special than you have ever felt. All because someone let you into their life. Even if for a few minutes.