We haven�t really been close long, have we? Though I remember soliciting your engineering skills for my future Prime Minister�s plane with frilly curtains - oh, some time ago. But we are close now, and that means we get to talk about the stupidest things in the world. It also means you can openly insult women to my face whilst I turn you into one.

I don�t think there�s anyone else who shares my love for lying in fields, doing nothing in particular or who is equally afraid of seaweed. I�m always dead when we�re laying in fields, lacking a pulse, and he keeps me warm. And that, is precisely the reason that he is meine kleine Matratze and I am his Steppdecke. We speak in German and go to Ikea and sleep on all the different sofas, enthuse about hundreds of different types of hot chocolate. And there�s all our plans, to go to Paris, and Prague [where we can drink hot chocolate in the snow], to go live in Germany and speak German like German people. Because we do even more silly things, like watch TV over the internet, and think up names like Electrical Steve. And he follows me over London, in art galleries he hates and toy shops and all these places I drag him; where he marvels over the engineering whilst I talk about how pretty trees are with fairy lights. Because I really don�t think there�s anyone better to argue with, mainly because I�m very good at winning. Because, sometimes, he�s almost as silly and playful as me. Steve picks me up like no one else can, and he�s always there to tell me things are going to be okay. He�s unfailingly good to me, he always has been and his goodness makes me want to deserve that. So much so, that I don�t want to disappoint him. In a lot of respects, we�re polar opposites; he is logical, and well I�m not, and I admire his inherent logicalness, because it�s alien to me & very clever. Because we have fun, and we don�t always have to talk. He can read me so easily, he knows how I�m feeling, and he rationalises things so that even I can see them. It�s okay to lie on the ground in the dark, because he is maybe the strongest person I know. He listens to me, he doesn�t tell me that the things going on in my head are rubbish, he doesn�t believe I�m an awful person because of them and he holds me when things are bad, unfailingly as well as when they�re good. So, I love him because of all these things. Because I look up to him and respect him, and because I want to do well for him, he makes me feel worth something.

Feeling:
Listening to:
Pretending: