Monday, November 9, 2009

Dear Mister,

I realized something today.
I sat here, sore because in my zeal to hoop I managed to hit myself in the face.
Hard.
But I digress.
I sat here sore and cold and waited impatiently for you to come home.
As I sat and waited I realized that I wished that you "coming home" meant you were coming home to me.
You have my heart.

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