I love you

because you joined facebook. we all did this, didn't we. We all joined facebook. and hated it. or hated that we silently enjoyed it.
because you send emails, everyday, sometimes twice. and still have nothing to say.
because you say, "punch yourself in the chest", and "come on!" and i do it. and feel better for it
because you never invite me anywhere.
because you never tell me to do anything.
because you never suggest that maybe i should think about it differently.
and yet i go out, play cards and invite Mormons into my home.
because you can't make coffee. and don't like it anyway.
because you can't play cribbage. and still join in.
because you make music, or poetry, or movies, or children. and they all make me cry.
because you can drive a car. and hang a teddy bear from the ceiling. and make wine from water and other ingredients. because you laugh when I am uncomfortable.
because you cry when the little boy with the sippy cup figures out how to dip his oreo in the milk.
because you know how before i say how i feel.
because you sit on the kitchen floor.
because you write and read and think about so many different things; medicines, tv listings, the changing colour of the silence.
because you appear in a dream on an anniversary.
because my fingers can make it so. I love you.