I come stumbling home after a girls' night out, more than a little drunk, and you're waiting up for me, like you usually are. I slur my way through a story about my idiot friend making a fool of herself, confessing her undying love at the bar to a friend of ours, and how he ran the other way. After I sober up a bit, we talk more about it and how she should have known he wasn't into her. There are just ways you can tell, right? During my not-so-brilliant explanation of how to tell if someone loves you, I inadvertently let way too much slip, things I never intended to tell you. Imagine my surprise when you tell me you feel the same way...