All Who Remain

Wine. Work. Prison

You know that moment when you have it all figured out and everything is cut and dry? When everything is prefect? Neither do I. No one does. I wrote this entry as a “note” on my iPhone because I had zero reception while I was on a weekend getaway. I hesitate to use the word “vacation”, because I`m never quite sure what that means. The concept of a vacation is not one I understand, especially when my mind is going a million miles per hours in hasty blur. Through my not quite vacation, yet lovely time away, I saw one person’s face constantly: my husband. My love. My everything. My reason for living and wanting to die, interchangeably, on a second by second basis.

I went to Yosemite and it was one of the most beautiful places I had ever been to and I was in love instantly. Just like…

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