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There’s this thing I do when I’ve been hanging out with someone I love.  Usually, it’s Simon, but sometimes it’s one of my girlfriends.  We’ll be sitting in the living room, talking seriously about something, or walking by the river, having a good belly laugh.  Either way, we’re having a great time.  And when they’ve left me – to go to work, back home, wherever – I get my phone out and send a quick text.  Before they’ve even been gone a minute; before they’re out of sight.

The texts say:

“You’re so fun.  I love you.”

“I’m so glad we’re friends.”

“You are the hottest man on the planet.” (That one is mostly for Simon.)

It’s a reflex, really.  And it’s just something I do when I’m excited about how much I love someone.

The other day, Adlai and I were playing on the floor in our living room.  He was an airplane.  I was the air.  Or the jet propeller.  Whatever.  I was whatever makes an airplane go.  It’s not important.  He was laughing, and because he was laughing, I was laughing.

A few minutes later, I put him down for his afternoon nap and, as I walked down the stairs, I pulled my phone from my pocket. Before I knew it, my thumb was pressing keys.  It must have taken me a good ten seconds to realize what I was doing.