My Montreal man. He is a man of his maps, ice cream shakes, and peanut butter toast. He quotes Leonard Cohen like a devoted disciple, meditates on David Lynch and Steven Hawking. He wears his beard like his hair: disheveled and supremely unkempt. He's my man-sized pillow, warm and always ready for me to plop my head on his chest. We spend so much of our life missing each other...but time is drawing near like a deep sigh of relief. My Montreal man, be like a wren and build me a little nest to swoop into.