I am watching him sleep. He has dozed with The Shack resting (with no hint of irony) like a tent on his stomach. This is the man I credit with saving my life, saving my heart. I never thought I could marry someone like him... but I did.

Saturdays are our day... for coffee, and movies, talking and driving, quarrels and making up. Today we saw a movie at the old playhouse, the one with cigarette burns in the plush velvet chairs and the faint smell of old ladies perfume mixed with popcorn. We fought about which theater to see the movie in, but had fun kissing in the dark to make up. Afterward, we drove around town looking for a place to buy car parts, while he muttered at the traffic and I gave not so helpful suggestions on how to get around it.

Tonight is for wine and reflecting, and apparently, dozing off in the middle of books. I am left with my half-empty wineglass and my own reflections... how generous he is with my heart, and how blessed I am to be with him.