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A love song. Daily story · 9 December, 2012
  • We met 5 years ago online and 4 years later he invited me to his hermit's lair in a tiny place, a train or two outside of Dublin. He is old style movie glamour. He is an Edwardian boxer out of time and out of place. And for a while, he loved my mind as I did his.

    I cannot be the woman he see's in me. Nor do I wish to be strong enough.

    I do not use the word extraordinary out of hand.
    He is extraordinary.
    But he is not often a tender man.

    He said he did not want the piano by way of explanation for where it was left.
    This is the song he made and sent me this Christmas. I am not sure it was really about me. My vanity would like to of course, but vanity does not serve one well.
    The stars around his cottage were some of the most beautiful I have ever seen.
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