We didn’t fuck for love, or the sensation of feeling something physically. We fucked out of a sense of sheer desperation. Desperation for the ability to feel something bigger than ourselves. We wanted to really feel alive mentally, and emotionally for the first time, and we relied on each other.
He would call me in his darkest hours in the depth of the night, and I knew it was my time to come through. He was counting on me after all, and I needed him, too.