I Do Not Expect To Get What

Love As A Verb. Love As A Commitment.

Inevitably I Draw On My Own Relationships When I Write, So If I'm Writing About A Fight Between A Husband And His Wife, Of Course I'm Going To Think About A Recent Fight With My Husband. Or If I'm Writing About Sisters, Of Course I'm Going To Think About My Sister.

But I Am Learning That Perfection Isn't What Matters. In Fact, It's The Very Thing That Can Destroy You If You Let It.

It's Amazing To Me How Few Guys Know Their Friends' Birthdays.

I Have One Final Hope, If I Get Double Sixes, Maybe He Will Change His Mind, Come Back To Me. As If To Cast A Magic Spell, I Blow On The Dice Just As Dex Did...just As It Happened With Our First Roll, One Die Lands Before Its Mate. On A Six! I Hold My Breath. For A Brief Second, I See A Mess Of Dots, And Think I Have Boxcars Again. I Kneel, Staring At The Second Die. It Is Onle A Five. I Have Rolled An Eleven, It Is As If Someone Is Mocking Me, Saying, Close, But No Dice.