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March 18, 2020
Rain is pouring. You are somewhere else without an umbrella and I am home feeling so cold. I am thinking of you and wishing I could keep you warm just by thinking it. You are coming home to me and that is comfort enough. In a few minutes the door will open and I will see your face. Your sweet face. Your clothes will be soaked and you will ask for tea, warm soup, and a cuddle. This pocket of a few minutes of anticipation is the best part of my day, waiting for the nearness of you. Come home.