Mango Salsa and Secret Smiles

"The rice. It needed something more," he said, scraping the leftovers from steel to plastic.
"Mango salsa," I earnestly reccommended.
He laughed and said, "It didn't need mango salsa."
"You don't know. Mango salsa could've been exactly what the rice needed."

And we laughed together, just like we always had.

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We made dinner at my place tonight, and he decided to stay. Making dinner together, eating together, watching a bit of TV together, cleaning up together. It felt regular. It felt normal. It felt wonderful. It felt like home.