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March 15, 2019
Dear love. Yesterday you told me that you smell rain and asked if could I smell it, too. Yes, I said. It's come early, no? The earth is damp and ants are busy. We've spent, what, almost three months huddling together, keeping the cold at bay, wishing for summer. And yesterday you came home forlorn, not so much asking if I could smell rain as actually declaring that June must have come too soon. I love you in the rain and in the heat. But we know that this love is only for fair weather. We've missed our chance again.