I know that maybe doesn’t mean anything to anybody but me, but it is what it is. I need to be first in her heart. Okay, maybe I am selfish, but she ...as all I have, and now I don’t have her and that’s all there is to it,” I said. The tears were streaming and I didn’t give a rat’s ass.“I kinda get where you’re coming from, Davey. But, you have to know that what you are asking for, what I think you are asking for, is not logical. She is there for you, just not only you. And truthfully, would you. I wrote back and thanked her, and that was the beginning of a good dozen or so email exchanges. Which then led to exchanging cellphone numbers with a view just to chatting. Nothing more contemplated. Nothing more desired.A week after the chats began, I found myself out on a Saturday afternoon bike ride, near the neighborhood she said was her home. I decided to call, and found she was going for a walk. We met. She walked. I rode slowly beside her. We talked. We clicked. And when we parted and we. By now Imogen had realized that there was a definite disadvantage to not having studied Herbology. It was the rare potion that did not use a magical plant of some kind. Madam Sprout was a thoroughly effective teacher, and the other students had all studied the characteristics of numerous plants. But of this subject Imogen was profoundly ignorant, and only a few days earlier, she'd gone wrong on a not-to-complicated fourth year potion. The instructions had called for the use of maple leaves, and. She drew the curtains to a lovely Sunday summers day morning and gazed at the lovely views that just about stretched to the sea. She picked up a towel and went into the shared ensuite leaving the door open. She started the shower then sat down and emptied her bladder. She had started drinking water after red wine and found she felt better for it. Keeping hydrated was good but she needed too pee more often. She cleaned her teeth then climbed in the shower cubicle and let the power shower.
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