(This was originally an email to Benjamin, but I feel the need to share it with the world, any reference to his personal affairs omitted.)

Here's how this goes. I have, in all my worldly 21 years, kissed one boy, didn't really enjoy it all that much at the time, and have rarely, since or before, desired to kiss other boys. Or girls or cattle, for that matter. Yes, once I thought something was wrong with me; in recent history, I can't even fake a desire for any of those "basic human needs" everyone says everyone wants/has. Either I'm ridiculously self-aware or delusional, I don't know if it's within my power to know, but I'm pretty sure the only time I've ever felt attracted to another person was when I was forcing myself to be, and even then, it's happened legitimately once. I have sometimes enjoyed being wanted, which is a different thing altogether. I so rarely, rarely, do the wanting.

Which is not to say, I suppose, that I don't feel, and I don't feel deeply. I have two amazing friends at Marietta, who after a long deliberation I began to call best. And you, you defy all titles I might think to append, but I think it's safe to say that in my own perverse, sometimes irrelevant way, I have loved you as long as I've known you. And there are a number of people I don't mind associating with, but I could pretty well do without all other human contact. I like so few people - I just don't bother - and I've just forgiven myself for it. I suppose I am capable of great feats of love and loyalty, but oh, so, selectively.

And so I think - at least you can be bothered to want to think about changing something, in this respect... although, I will maintain, I don't think there's anything wrong with being militantly antisocial, and perhaps verging on the asexual... even the feminists who tell you you betray the cause by loving a man insist you need something so you'd better be a lesbian... but I, just... am fine on my own. I love, I am loved, I haven't felt a burning need or desire for more in a long time. So perhaps I'm ignoring some basic truth about myself, and perhaps there is something wrong with me, but I'm mostly content with my relationships day-to-day which is probably a bit more than I can ask for.

Well -- it's not the same -- I think you're reaching out for something different than I am [not]. There really is no chance of being understood by another human being, so I think we've got to love them in spite of it or give it up altogether -- what other alternative is there? "If it were worth fixing, it wouldn't break." I suppose it's immature of me, but I almost want to insist that's true...

I think there is a sense in which you could call me heartless, yes, you know it probably better than anyone, and it's disturbingly easy for me to let go of attachments. I don't talk to anyone from high school but you, and I don't want to form attachments here. And so I'm not sure what merit what I have to say may have, if I were actually saying anything, but I really feel that it is always clear to you -- by which I mean a generalized you, by which I mean me -- who is really worth loving, and who you'll forget two years later anyway: in the sense that I knew, long before I had it in me to pursue a relationship, that I could be great friends with Lani and Josh; and in the sense that long after I got over any fear of addiction or loss-of-self I still want to be your bodiless correspondent. And other people come and go, connections are made, and sometimes I even work at a relationship, but all the while I think I know it's not the same as a Lani or a Josh or a Benjamin, and so, though you hate to put a price on it, it's not really worth it, in the end. And so, if there is another person, or many other people, in the world I could love, I do believe I will know it, but yet -- I think it's that "love" is not a thing you can quantify, you can't add or multiply it, you just HAVE it, whether it's people or yourself or the fucking amazing sky, you have to know what it looks like because it'll be different for you, but it's always there, and if I may descend into utter cheese (if you haven't already, you must see love actually), love actually is all around.

Yes. That's not where I meant for any of this to turn up. And I think there is indeed no actual content there. But.

Have I mastered the art of the completely incomprehensible sentence yet?