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I Count The Days
August 17, 2009
I find myself thinking in intervals lately. It is no longer a path of endless days before me, but they have been grouped into sevens, and fourteens, and occasionally twenty-ones. I count the days until he returns, the hours until I can hear his voice, the seconds until I can see his face once more. I am always counting down, always looking forward, and once he finally arrives; time fails to matter.
Time may be passing for the rest of the world, but it stops for me in his arms.
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