Hannah

HANNAH IS a presence I've grown to need, much like a soothing melody to my ear or oxygen for my soul.

For the past two weeks, her warmth has chipped away the chronic stress from my shoulders like wax dripping from a candle, leaving behind a man I can hardly recognize—with a sense of calm and joy.

On several occasions, I've laughed so hard with her at the most mundane of things, that tears lined my eyes in a way they haven't since... I don't know how long. It's very clear to me now that she makes me not only a better lover, but a better person, who sees optimism in an unpredictable future, instead of trying to control it.

A week ago, she convinced me to take a day off work to go have tea with my mother. Never would I have done that—obviously, not because of my mother, who I adore. But because the very thought of leaving my company unattended, even though I know there are people I specifically hire to handle my affairs when I'm absent, has always been horrid to me. As if one day off cou