I’m thinking about love. It’s one of those words that’s skittering around the corners of my mind, straining toward the surface when I least expect it. I just sometimes feel like I’m on the blurry line between like and love, or between friend-love and romantic love.
I was watching TV just now, and Carmen was talking to Shane about the real deal. I’d forgotten about that phrase, somehow. And I think that this here is the real thing. This is one of those things, those irreplaceable, unforgettable, feel-it-in-your-pores series of relations.
When you said that thing about the cookbooks—the pretty ones—my heart started racing. I can’t explain it, except to say that most things about you have that effect on me.
(this is short and unimpressive, but honest)
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