Monday, March 6, 2017

March 5, 2017

The odd truth is that I have found my ideal man, perfect in looks and demeanor, Irish, beautiful and strange, and there is not a spark between us. He plays for the other team, but in the paradise of dreams that made no difference. I can picture some mean angel standing at the Gates hearing my last complaint, saying, “We provided. It’s not our fault nothing came of it.

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