Today I am writing on love. On that mystical feeling that connects us to another being. But at the moment I am only writing on the love that I feel for the boy. This weekend he sacrificed a night at home to help me with a very boring and uncomfortable business dinner. In the process either he had too much to drink to make the night barable or got some slight food poisining. Sat. morning I awoke to a very white boy. I made sure he drank plenty of water, liquids. That night, after bringing the liquids up almost like clock work all day he finally felt able to eat some egg flour soup. He kept it down and so started the slow path back to health and happiness. That night we had many plans, a congratulatory party for our friends engagement and a long awaited "poker party", and though I am sure I could have left him at home and he would have been comfortable as long as I made sure he several episodes of "Rome" to watch, I stayed with him, making sure he was comfortable, getting him what he needed. I knew in a moment that he would have done the same for me and for a simple second I marveled at love and how strongly I had bonded with a perfect stranger. A person, who now, I could not imagine my life without. It gives me hope for mankind. I feel blessed for knowing and sharing my life with such a loving and caring person as the boy. I can only offer him in return my deepest gratitude, kindness and love. It is not much but it seems to be enough.