We've spent a few nights together-but-not, wrapped in two distinct parts of the whole and buzzed past the point of preservation. A couple of times we've wandered away from home to rest beneath the buzzing electricity of second-home comfort. Distinctly, our alternate reality is lulling compared to the universe we supposedly dwell in. The contrast is jarring, setting my teeth on edge and biting the back of my throat more than all of the liquor in the world. More than anything else, I live for these moments we share, and I feel like you know that we have something special going for us. No matter where we are, like two magnets, we get interlocked when we pass close enough by. It's something I can rely one. You're someone I can rely on.