The difference between selfishness
And selflessness is simple
The first is survival
And the second living
When one is selfish
One thinks of oneself
When one is selfless
One only thinks others
Put it another way
Love occurs inside selflessness
And is expressed outwardly
Greed occurs inside selfishness
And is expressed inwardly
To live love out
As a
Child I
Wasn’t allowed
To play
With others
Simply because
I couldn’t
Refusing to
Share what
I’d had
And now
Even older
I am
Learning to
Remove my
Protective arms
From around
My treasures
Thus allowing
Others to
Play with
Them too
The sun
here wakes
me at quarter
past six hidden
by a disorganized
gang of clouds
I can’t see the sun
except when it peeks
between the slats of
grey shutters
It’s rained here
daily saturating my hope
of sun with mist like Seattle
This is paradise I’m told
but paradise before or after the
apple
Curiosity is the child in us.
I entertain my curiosities daily. When I think of myself living my life, I picture myself 
sitting in a large sandbox with my lovers pretending we’re sailors or bulldozers or explorers. While we’re undressing, I imagine we’re adventurers, and the unclothing of our bodies is akin to typography, scanning the mountainous terrain of shoulders and abdomens and hips and buttocks.
And each time I’m with my lovers, whether we’re in Paris or Charlotte or Palm Springs or Buenos Aires, I’m wholly entertained by them.
As lovers love, we’re also very curious about life.
I love my life. I really do. I’m blessed to be in the company of my lovers: Jean-Baptiste, Marc, Pup, and Luciano. They’re my seasonings, my pepper, my flavor.
Last night Pup and I were dining al dente. When we sat down I immediately took my napkin from the place setting and placed it in my lap. But Pup didn’t.
“Don’t expect me to put the napkin in my lap,” Pup chortled, “the napkin goes on your lap when your first course is served.”
“Oh, really,” I responded.
“Listen, Harlan,” Pup added, “I have excellent table manners.”
And then out came our iPhones and off we went to the races. We were foolishly scouring the internet for proper table manners, followed by belly laughs and smiles.
Curiosity is fueled by a distinctive degree of humility.
A lover is nothing if not a mirror of your soul.
Pup and I spent another glorious day together. It was in a word, magnificent.
But it didn’t start out that way. God no, it couldn’t have started out worse.
Pup wakes up every day at 6:00 a.m. That’s when he responds to my texts and phone 
messages. And last night I was on a tear. So, at 6:00 a.m. I received a barrage of texts pointing out what a boor I was, that he’d listened to my voice messages, that he’d been busy all day with school and work, and why didn’t I just chill.
You see, I’d once again shot myself in my proverbial foot.
I’m impatient. Boorishly impatient. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to have a day job; I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be stretched for a time; I’ve forgotten what it’s like to try and dovetail a lover into an already hectic lifestyle.
We were having a pissing match!
And Pup can lay into me as pointedly as I lay into him.
We, Pup and I, are now mirroring each other. We’re picking up on each other’s anguish and anger.
“Why” I shouted at him via text, “do you make it so fucking difficult to love you?”
“I fear love,” Pup returned.
“You frustrate the piss out of me,” I reacted, “No one fears love, Matthew. They fear hurt. Love and hurt come in the same package. The difference between love and hurt is trust!”
“Love is hard for me,” he replied quietly, “I trust most people, and I know I trust you.”
Pup and I are like most people. We’re afraid of being hurt by expressing how much we care about the other. It’s exposing; it’s raw; it’s unblemished. And yes, it’s terribly frightening.
But once our chest-thumping is done, once we’re finished biting at each other, we calm down and talk cooly, intimately.
“I love you for who you are,” I’ve told Pup. “However you are. Maybe that makes me weak.”
“No,” Pup said softly, “I think it shows how strong you are.”
I love that Pup.
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 