<i> “I can’t give you all the things I once hoped to,” </i> he says. <i> “But I can give you a family and a home. I love you, Al. I just hope you can love a simple mechanic.” </i><br />I wind my fingers through the wavy hair at his neck. I admire this side of him most of all . . . his fragility, his flaws. His strength in spite of them. And now, he sees that strength with as much clarity and confidence as I always have.<br /><i> “There will never be anything simple about you,” </i> I whisper. <i> “And I already love you.</i>