He

He judges me full heatedly for my drinking. My little black bubbles just won't do it for him. I don't blame him. So I try hard to push out words from his lips to please my self confidence. I push out tiny smiles form my heart, like trying to poke out goose feathers from a down comforter. Slowly at first, then fast as full tugs of anticipation are pulled out.
 I feel him. I know him. I touch the essence of him in the middle of the night when he's not looking or thinking of me. And I think of him.The platonic nature of our relationship and I understand how very much this is meant to be. It's okay.