Putting out fires.

That's been my week, basically.

Thursday night, I dumped my angst on Mike, along with a couple tears on his blue checkered shirt that always makes me think of picnicking with Bob Veela. 
Just sitting there being hugged and hugging him back made me feel human again. He touched his forehead to mine and oh God I almost started crying again.
Then he started telling me incriminatingly funny stories about his roommate, and then answered his phone and told me said roommate would be watching the movie with us after all, and so I sat between them for The Social Network and said maybe two words to his roommate and tried to decide whether or not to dodge elbows once the lights went down. It's a losing battle in those seats anyway.
His roommate disappeared as soon as it ended. I don't know, either. STOP GOING AWAY AS SOON AS I GET INTERESTED IN YOU. That's all I'll say about that. Mike said it's par for the Cape course.

"I love you very much."
Mike said that last night, to me, when I walked him to his car after the movie. We were mid-hug and I pulled away to unsquish my ear and ask him to repeat himself because I wanted to make sure I heard him right.
"Yeah, that's what I thought you said. I love you, too."
It was serious and simple and true.
I don't know how to make a non-awkward segue that this was about friendship without getting all goofball corny or unfairly snarky about the moment, so here's another bonding moment I inflicted on Mike in lighter times:



He now loves Shatner, and it's all my fault. Heh.