To balance the karma between this post and the last, which I’ve had to do with increasing frequency, I’m gonna post something sweet and sappy tonite.

Mr. W invited me to an impromptu lunch yesterday, since I’ve not been working out lately anyway. We decided to go to a nearby park and walk around and enjoy the slightly cooler sunlight. On the way to his car, I forgot what the topic of our casual chat was, but I said something jokingly about him leaving me. “That’ll make it easy for you to leave me,” or something.
He put his arm around me, pulled me against his side and kissed the top of my head, and said, “I’ll never leave you.”
“Really? What if I go crazy?”
“Nope.”
“And I don’t mean the cute kind of crazy.”
He laughed. “You’re already that.”
“What if I’m so crazy I have to be institutionalized?”
“Then I’ll go with you. I’ll probably be more comfortable there with you, anyway.”

Awww. I think it was just last year or maybe a couple of years ago when we had a conversation that started the exact same way, except it went somewhere different. That conversation:
“I’ll never leave you.”
“Really? What if I go crazy?”
“If you let me drive you crazy then you and I aren’t supposed to be together.”
“What if I didn’t LET YOU, I just went crazy?”
“Same thing. If you’re crazy then we’re not meant to be together.”

But that was before he loved me enough to propose. See, men can change.