Dear Helen

It was my birthday today. You were beautiful in the morning light. You always seem the most at ease then. I wonder if you would look like that all day if nothing bothered you. We kissed goodbye on the street, through the car window. And it seemed to cease being my birthday then. I drunk way too many coffees to get through my test and left prematurely through a tutorial. You weren’t home yet. The puppies are always waiting for you when I get here. They jump at every sound as if it is you; until it is and then they seem content to sleep in our laps. You never get to see that but they miss you a lot. Every. Single. Day. And so do I. 

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