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Effortless is Difficult

My inner Drama Queen wants more. She's bored.

I love my boyfriend. Immensely. Joyously. Sweatily. Funnily. Profoundly. Physically. Sexually. Intellectually. Affectionately. Touchingly. Obtusely. Grandly. Grandiloquently (for those of you still paying attention). Desperately. Naturally. Obviously. Subtly. Fondly. Grossly. Intensely. Naturally. UNNaturally. Orgasmically. Handily. Verbally. Anally. Orally. Materially. Manually. Abstractly. Automatically. Easily. Effortlessly.

Effortlessly. Therein lies the difficulty, at least for that internal-infernal DQ I was talking about. The boyfriend and I are very different. Where's the despair over that? The boyfriend and I are very similiar. Where's the suspicion of that? The boyfriend and I smile. Too much? We fight. Too little? We are together, not enough as measured by time and distance, but together, as one, it's there, always there.

Together, to the point that our impassioned argument (see below) was so far away from jeopardizing even one aspect of our relationship as to be orthogonal.

I love my boyfriend. Geometrically. Immeasurably.

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