I needed to instruct him, question him, and remind him of his shortcomings. He simply loved me. Assurance of interest has to take a back seat in these surroundings. How often I screwed that up with bickering and manipulating. I want to live love. I open to the London What's On pages, where adverts of the various different West End shows are placed. Like Jesus, we have the opportunity to demonstrate love by serving those we live with. Before me was the last load of laundry I would ever wash for that sweet man. Why, why, must he leave piles of clothes scattered, the same way that the toddler does, right? Is picking up on the train successful? Recently, I walked into the master bedroom and I stopped, nearly bursting into tears. I scope out my surroundings, trying to identify not so much individuals, but vantage points and how people act when commuting. By pointing out each fault, I was poisoning the relationship. He shared no list of ways that I needed refinement. The London Underground travels hundreds of thousands of single women from one important meeting to another on a daily basis, so I figure this should be easy as I'm presented with one beautiful, successful woman after another on a conveyor belt that only ends when the trains do. I happily scooped the treasures into my arms and carried them to the washing machine. I now strive to hug more and nag less.