I love you.

Is it strange that I love you this much when life is such a dog pile, and my nerves are on the bottom?

My computer ate up my hard work last night, and after such a long week I couldn't seem to do anything but stare, quivering, at the smugly indifferent screen.  Amid all the chaos in my heart, though, I was distinctly aware that I was grateful you were sitting beside me.  I wanted you there.

It's a small thing, having one's work eaten by a machine...But the petty grievances and wasp stings seem to always show me what a big thing it is to have you in my life.

This business of loving seems to be about collecting moments, and just letting them be the beautiful things they are.  And not trying to make them happen again.  

All of the bright yellow leaves against the grey concrete, grey benches, grey sky.  It smelled like fall.  I loved sitting there with you, even if it was just for a few minutes.

I'm glad you like grilled cheese and tomato soup as much as I do.

She was a little odd, that lady who needed directions.  You were so kind to her, though, and struck up conversation so easily.

I love you.  These moments were gathered under the dog pile.  That's fitting.  We're signing up for life, not a fairy tale.  And it's so much better this way.

Bring it on, computer.