Before everyone gets their panties in a bunch, there is no hidden meaning in this selection.

My Tegan and Sara station on Pandora keeps playing it and it was totally stuck in my head in not that particularly awesome way, I mean I liked it, but until I really started to listen, and realized how much I loved it, and, in turn, Imogen Heap, whom I've loved for a couple of years now, because - man. Just listen to her! To the song! It's beautiful. It's moving. It's intimate. It's desperation and longing and painful and all of the stuff that makes tortured love so torturous.

I don't miss it - tortured love, that is - because I got blessed with the kind of love that includes someone who walks into your apartment and sees that you weren't lying when you said, at 6:23 p.m. from the Damen bus, that you were crawling right into bed. In all of the clothes you wore all day. Watching Supernanny. The kind of love that crawls into bed right there with you and, to top it off, brings you a small bag of Cheetos because he always, almost without fail, brings you Cheetos when you've hit the point of breaking and need to make your way back.

This time, though, he didn't mess with the baked version. Yesterday was a day that necessitated the real Cheetos.

That's the kind of love I'm grateful for, and would never want to experience unrequited love again, but I'm glad I can dip my toes in once in awhile through a song.