Every night is amazing with you.  I can't believe what I was missing all that time.  And all it took was work.  Work and love and faith.

I'm terrified I'll get hit by an eighteen wheeler and I'll never hear you tell me you love me again.  More than I'm afraid of the large hadron collider.

Aside from all the awkwardness, I hope you enjoyed tonight as much as I did.

Picking out an apartment was difficult, but I knew what I wanted and we had never looked for places together.  Picking out dishes and cups is much harder because I still look for the stuff you'd like because it's what I would want too.  I guess if things work out you'll feel comfortable at my place.

I want to be your roommate so badly that it hurts in my chest, stomach and feet.  It's so hard to know I can't be right now.

Resolved: This week will now and forever be referred to as "The Week of Great Messages."  That is all.

That look you get like you're about to call bullshit on someone kills me.  Seriously.  Keep it up.

A lawyer would be hard pressed to prove you didn't feel something to send it.  All you need to do is take the next step.  You're good at follow through.  A natural.

Single beds were always better with you.  I'll take the cold wall if you hold onto me all night and won't fall.

The next chapter begins today.  I couldn't find the perfect way to end the preceding chapter, so characters will probably come back and emotions may change.  This is certainly not the end of anything, but a way to show the main character in my story isn't as static as you thought.

I think you misunderstood something major.  Kissing before you was like pushing two lumps of fat together.  Kissing you taught me what the act should be, and we had some really great acts before the curtain fell.

I wonder what she'll look like, sitting across from her, among our friends at Christmas dinner, when I've known her 30 years and we're still happily married.

We were atheists for so long that we forgot how to believe in each other.

I'm having one of those moments when House hears something and suddenly everything connects and makes sense.  This is good.  Dangerous, but good.

It amazes me some of the things I've done and accomplished without the pseudo-courage of alcohol.  Makes me feel stronger than most people.

There is nothing in this world as nice as a threadbare shirt around the right person's curves.

The other night, on a vocabulary quiz at the center, a young girl wrote the definition of "senses" as, "What daddy lets you feel."  If that's not a Tom Waits song waiting to happen then I don't know what is.

Just remembered this song, and thought of you.  Thank you for the autograph.  I miss you every second.

Stumbling through the ice and snow to Mac's.  God knows if it's even open.  We can barely walk, so driving is out.  I drove through fear and winter storm dark to be there with you because there was no place else I would rather be snowed in.  The blankets and dark, cozy living room we huddled in to watch the orange snow in the street lamps.  Horrible movies and life changing ones.  Our buddy's first snow and his first bumbling steps into it on his red leash.