Tomorrow the man who loves me will move in temporarily while he recuperates from lung cancer surgery. Everything is so fucking temporary. You are temporary. I am temporary. And yet, we are permanent, too. If I had a sign to hang on my bathroom door now, maybe it would say, "Welcome to the Hotel California. You can check out any time you want, but you can never leave."
4 comments:
This is a most perfect, perfect post.
We just absolutely never know, do we?
He is a beauty, that man.
You are a beauty, woman.
And your heart is gold and good.
He has a very kind, gentle face. I'm glad he's moving in with you, even temporarily.
we just never know what time will bring us. best wishes for his recovery; i'm sure he'll do better with you around.
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