Pieces, Pieces, Pieces of Me...

There was a guy doing free weights by the mats at the gym today. He was probably in his early thirties, around 6'2", 225 pounds. He looked like Kwame from the first (and only good) season of the Apprentice, only more athletic looking. He was also unabashedly singing along very loudly to Ashlee Simpson's "Pieces of Me", which was playing over the speakers. People were sorta snickering, but it made me smile; I was doing it, too-- singing along. I thought to myself, he must be in love. When you're in love, you sing out loud like nobody's listening. Or-- like everyone's listening, and you just don't care. All you really feel is the intense medley of emotions that comes with knowing: I have the best freaking boyfriend anyone could and has and will ever ask for.