someone who loves you, actually, is something that softens all the rough edges in your life. Work piles on, sometimes exceeding your capacity for work, sometimes seeping into your weekends, but never actually pushing you to that point of utter irritation where you start hating it.
It's all so different coming home to P than to an empty house. It's all so different when someone wants to hear your stories, mundane as they may be. It's all so .... new and refreshing from the life I had before.
God, if I haven't said thanks enough, here - I'm saying them right now. Thanks!