The Good Going, Illumination of Slab City

I took an old dusty book off the shelf, and read the first couple pages...
These words were written January 27th, 2014, two years and a few days ago.

He wrote: "These were our people. Drunken drifters and messy blonde babies. Ecstatic hippies with dogs. I took her in my arms, and she, me, in hers, and we danced under the moon. We were alive. Free. Far from conviction of man's judgement, and God spun us in the desert gale to the strum of a guitar. We missed the concert in LA, but instead had a hell of a night, swinging each other, and visiting all the vagabonds, looking at the stars and taking leaks in the bushes."

At then end of my page, I added: "I didn't want to go at first, if I'm being fully honest. I was afraid of what I didn't know. I'm so glad you persuaded me, for it would have been a great beauty to trade up for a small fear.  
The light that sparked in your eyes caught in mine and shone bright as the moon above us. Hopeful grace led un in a dance beside the smoke drifting up to heaven, just like our prayers, asking God that we'd only ever grow in love and that our eyes could see as clearly as they did that dark night."

...that's why I haven't been able to date other guys...