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December 14, 2004
I see her soul. It is a good soul. It is a kind soul. She doesn't see it. She isn't worthy to be called an angel, she thinks. An angel she is, nonetheless. She is my confidant at work and I spring to her defense like a mother tiger defending her young. Ironically, she is old enough to be my mother. Yet, at times I feel like the mother tending to a child. Her glory days are over and she loves to listen to my romantic adventures, living vicariously through me. What a divine gift we are to each other!