Entering someone else's dream

I took the airport bus with Sanji this morning and stayed with him in the line while he waited to take off his shoes and empty his pockets. We held hands and stood together and it was a little awkward, but funny. He's shorter, thinner than me. That was a pretty weird thing for me to acknowledge but it doesnt even matter anymore. The caring love that reaches far out of his soul is large enough to shelter anyone seeking that kind of thing. We talked about porn and women and lots of other insignificants stuff. Words became unimportant. Voice was just a thin lead running to reality. The place was somewhat distant. And yet full of proximity.
The proximity remained even after he left. Well, it had always been here. And I was not afraid to reach for it as my inhibits were off. I walked past purposefull people. Distant and sad to tears, but not alone this time.

The time of shame and embarrassment was gone, all expectations killed, and simple handholding told the entire story. And I knew I was never ever going to meet him again. I could not go through it again. This fire burned everything there was to burn. It provided nourishing ashes for the freshly reborn Phoenix. But that was it. It was a once time only. The Phoenix was aging and could not survive another painfull death, no matter how rewarding the ressurection felt.

I was thinking of him again. How he has been there for me for so long. How I would feed of that loving care returning nothing more than admiration and appreciation. Was that really enough for him? Or was there more to it that I will never understand? Strangely enough, it never occured to me that the reason and motor could be kindness. That kindness that often hurts down in the soul after being discovered. The kindness that has intention to help, but wounds deeply.