always something there

Dear Spazzy,

You make me laugh out loud. At the stupid things you do, and the silly things you say, at your facial expressions, at how I know what you're thinking when you're thinking it (and sometimes before), at how demented I am when I'm with you sometimes, at myself, at life, at the world.

You make me think. About things that hurt my brain, about things that I don't usually care about, about things I'd never otherwise take the time to learn.

You make me work. You motivate me to excel (or at least to try to), to get shit done, to wear myself out, to keep going.

You make me optimistic. About life, about friendship, about the world, about where I'm going, about where I've been.

You make me feel like what I have to say, the real important stuff anyway, matters. Like what I think counts. Like who I am is special. Like what I do is important.

And when you make me angry, or mad, or most likely just frustrated, it's usually transient and born of confusion - soon to be cleared up by a few concise sentences, some good communication.
I don't mind letting go of things when it's with you. I don't feel like I have to win. I don't feel like it's a game. I don't feel like I have anything to prove.

It's delusions, all of it, everything, obviously. But it's so gosh darned nice to have something to look forward to, and think on, and be happy about.

You make me smile. Illusion, yes. Brilliant? Definitely.

I'll let you know, someday... maybe. Probably paraphrase a bit.
But you'll know what I'm getting at; you always seem to.