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Dear Reader,
The big moments are but a flash, they're not what sustain me. They aren't the things I think about when I'm alone in a hotel room, reflecting on my life, or when I'm sitting on a red eye, flying back home after a big business deal.
I made the sale. That was the goal, but that's not what's on my mind tonight. I'm dreaming of the man that's waiting for me, his smile and the look he'll give me when I get off the plane. Ride the tram, walk down the hall, and there he will be waiting. Arms open wide.
My husband always misses me and I miss him, even when I'm only gone for a couple of days. We talk like teenagers on the phone, uncomfortable, nervous, because we're apart. Instead of planning a Friday night date for the football game, sometimes we hardly say a word. It's just enough to know he's on the other end of the line. "I'll be home soon."
He calls to say good morning, I call for my good night kiss. It's a feeling. I want to tell him about every appointment and describe the view outside my window on the 36th floor.
It's just not the same when I'm alone.
Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.
Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com
http://www.DearReader.com
READ THE CLASSICS: Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, by Harriet Jacobs, and enter the free Penguin Classic's Drawing. Go to: http://www.supportlibrary.com/nl/path_go.cfm?x=815&site=23
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