Email just in from lifelong love, sfitz.

The sad news: it was a mass mailing to everyone informing us of his new email address.

The good news: I take great galloping breaths of happiness just knowing I'm on his mailing list.

Since the great breakup of '97, sfitz did not speak to me for four years. This was torment. I love this man.

Last summer, though, a reunion of sorts took place against the unlikely backdrop of the NC Highland games (which I do not recommend--definite ties to white pride, I believe. Apologies to proud, unracist Scots the world over, but your southern brethren ain't representin too well).

I thought (hoped, prayed, feared) that I had the love under control--that I could see him and feel a normal, healthy degree of affection for a one-time good friend. But then he had to go and sing "The Old Woman Who Swallowed a Fly" IN ITS ENTIRETY (loooong song) on a tour bus full of men in kilts and things. Swoon. Smitten, still.

So right now? I'm doing my little happy dance because I'm on his mailing list.