I hear you

He calls when he says that he is going to.


He texts me at odd moments of the day.


He emails me and messages me and stays in touch.


I wake up and I think about the day ahead.


There is a text on my phone. It might be practical, pragmatic or tender but he has taken time out of his day to write it.


Throughout the day there are more texts.


He knows that I hate texting and that I will always message him another way if possible.


He doesn't write to get a response.


He doesn't call because the 'rules' indicate that he should.


All day there is communication between us, in one form or another.


It doesn't matter in the least what he says; just that he is saying it.

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About quirkycharm

I like to think that I have a certain quirky charm but I am probably being optimistic. Acquired taste, perhaps, which many don't acquire. This is about my fifth blog out there. My hosting companies kept going out of business or my IT exhusband kept hacking into them and I would move again. I don't do twitter, I barely do facebook, I don't try and 'monetize' my blog. I love my husband, my grown children and my job and this particular incarnation of oversharing my life comes at a time when I am the most content that I have ever been. I write always, sporadically during the good stuff and exhaustingly during the bad.
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