I like your breadth, your depth, your rhythm, your balance; your accuracy and precision, your intensity and your density. You are “lagom” to me, the essential, the bare, the only just, the necessary. I cannot live without you, like I can’t live without my books, the Internet, without food and clothes. Like I can’t live without a bed and oxygen, a daily act of kindness, a daily job well done. I don’t blame you for meaning something to me, I don’t blame anyone, it is just how it is. I don’t thank you either, nor anyone else. As you said at some point, it is what it is.