Thursday afternoons are for writing.
There is no rule for this, no law, no generally accepted absence from the day, but you take it anyway, force the fences up around your hours. Sit in silence, pour another cup of coffee, wait for the magic to seep in.
The thing about love is it sits there waiting, patiently. It is not fearful, it builds and evolves on itself and when you are ready, it is, too. When you show up with your full force and beating heart, it will match you step for step, the thing about winter is if you make it through,
there will be a spring.
I never didn't love you.
Let me prove to you
what I mean.
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