What I Did On Valentine's Day

• Set my iPod to wake me up with "I thought about you" by John Pizzarelli

• Made breakfast for myself then ate it in bed.

• Took a shower, shaved, brushed my teeth.

• Played my "It's Not That Bad" playlist on the way to work.

• Wrote a poem

• Seriously considered sending a certain someone a singing telegram.

• Backed off that idea.

• Worked for another 8 hours.

• Came home

• Got into bed

• Watched Amelie (alone), fell asleep.

• Had a really sweet dream where we got married. We had three kids. One of them had your skin tone. One was left handed. You taught him how to play baseball, and I taught our daughters how to play hockey. We lived in a townhouse in San Francisco. There were a lot of hills. Every mundane moment felt real and honest and pure. We didn't work. The kids didn't have school that day, so we took them on a picnic. We sat on top of a lush rolling hill overlooking the bay. The sky was wide open; the water was just a shade just shy of Technicolor® blue. We sat back, your hand on top of mine, watching our kids chase the dog from one side of the hill to the other, the city's gentle chorus softly filling the gaps between shrieks of delight when one of the kids would fall. The sun wanted to set, but it couldn't. This was too perfect. So it let us play for a bit longer. Long enough for me to wake up without ever having to feel like it ended.

• Had a Frappuchino, brushed my teeth, ran out the door because I was late for work.