Writing My Story
a cornucopia of the loves that make me write
Sunday, November 2, 2008
I never get over thinking: maybe next Christmas I will be married. Maybe the next baby will be mine. Maybe, the next life to really take off will be mine. Maybe.
Those are the nights you wish you could make dinner for more than one.
Okay, cue the violins. I'm thinking I need to take this pity party on the road.
Some guy would be lucky to have you.
January 3, 2009 at 9:01 PM
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