On those early mornings when you lie in bed too tired to get up but wracked with guilt you are leaving me hanging in the wee hours, I offer you this: Do not feel guilty when lying in bed. In the wake of your unexpected absence, I find 45 minutes to brew coffee, read the paper, butter my toast, and enjoy some moments of peace and quiet. It is a gift.
Instead, the time you should feel guilty is when you accompany me to the pool and notice my dimpled thighs and fleshy arms. Survey in horror the decline and ruin of my body and know then that ONLY YOU ARE TO BLAME.
;)
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Ode to the guilt of standing up my partner in the wee hours
Running partner, I confess
I heard the alarm, Far away, in a fog. What is it? What does it want?
to run? to walk? to keep them dimpled thighs at bay?
Guilt, shame, i felt it all,
but sleeping in was a ball!
don't give up on me baby!
My shaky thighs understand. Maybe Tuesday?
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