I picture you standing in the rain chain smoking. Listening to Bill Withers singing Aint No sunshine. Helpless. Pitiful. Wet. The core of why you are in this predicament is because you miss me. I am only gone for the night. Knowing that we don't get to sleep in the same bed. Wake up next to each other. Warm morning breath on your nose.
That, I am pained to say is just not reality.
I picture you walking in the door. Hanging your coat and tie for the day. Walking into the house, excited by the scents of fresh baked cobbler and roasted garlic. Me in my pearls and heels. Surprised to see you home so early. You dip me and we kiss while Ingrid Lucia Sings stars fell on alabama faintly from the record player.
This dream my dear is 50 years too late.
Our reality is nothing close to this. How I wish we could be apart of my day dreams. Twirling around a dance floor. Drinking martini's to big band music. In my day dreams we have the perfect lives. We sit and play music all day. We have just enough time for leisure. We never work too hard.
As different as our lives are from my day dreams I know that you and I together can take on the world. We are creating our future day by day. Its filled with love and passion and the strength of one thousand men. Together forever, we will always have our memories and young hopes.
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