I just spent this evening in bed with two wonderful people. There was a little fucking and a lot of snuggling and a whole big lot of laughter. I spent the day before with a whole bunch of wonderful friends, with almost as much snuggling and even more laughter.
Ten years ago, I was pretty sure I'd never have sex and I figured I'd never have too many friends, either. At the most I figured I'd stumble into some sort of dating relationship eventually, maybe, if I was lucky and I wasn't picky. I figured bullies and indifferent strangers would always surround me and I'd always be lonely inside.
And one year ago, although I certainly had established my sex and relationship bona fides by then, I still never dreamed I'd be this happy. Even then I never dreamed I'd have this many friends and lovers and that they'd be as awesome as they are.
My days are happy and my nights are wild and I'm never lonely anymore. Life is fast and crazy and good.
I can't say "well, good thing I didn't kill myself back when I was a sad-sack," because I'm just not made to ever consider that, but I can say that I'm glad I stuck it out. I'm glad I didn't give up or settle. I'm glad I kept chasing joy. Because I've motherfuckin' caught it.