falling down.

I like him more than I have ever liked anyone in almost 20 years and I talk to him every single day for hours. We say cute things. We talk about snuggling. He likes me, too, and he knows that I am a ridiculous floozy who is obsessed with cheese and Patricia Arquette's teeth and everything I adore like a crazy person. And he still likes me.

Also today the animal handler texted me out of the blue to apologize for being an asshole months ago when he blew me off and I found myself not giving a shit, and able to say, "It's cool. I'm fine. Hope you're well," and then ignore all further attempts at contact.

I found myself just thinking of Jon and how he is so much better for me.