10-17-08| 1:32 am

"What?" he asks, grabbing me close.
"Sometimes I hate you. You drive me crazy. And then sometimes..." I grab his arms around my waist.
"That's all part of it," he says, agreeing. As if I didn't know, as if he knows that I didn't know.

Later we are laying in bed, a baseball game on TV and my laptop open to a criticism of Hobbes' Leviathan. A black pen is in my hand and his bare skin is inches away. Idly, I start to mark him, coloring in a simple heart. I stop. As an afterthought, I add "I" and "U". String the words together. Say it out loud. I have never done this.

Later, he looks down. "What's this?"
"I heart you," I mumble, and at the same time he reads, "You love me."