image – Flickr / Carmen Jost
I don’t know how you like your coffee on misty mornings. Which rooftop you kick your favorite sneakers off to climb. What haunts your thoughts at night, or what makes your nose crease with laughter. But I do know you – and I know your heart. You are the woman dancing in her car alone in traffic. The woman who runs up stairs and double checks locks before ending every day. The woman curled up under sheets, in the corner of a bed meant for two. I know you because we share the same heart.
We all arrived here through different roads, different highways and different dirt paths. Some of us are bruised. Some of us are spotless. But how we got here doesn’t matter. What matters is the way in which we are united. We are the women who spend our Sunday afternoons…
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