It doesn't make much sense to be cold, it doesn't get you right; I know. The Letting Go, making peace with loose ends, the fourth time around, the "fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent," "you know I dreamed about you for 29 years before I saw you." What more is tomorrow than another day you sent my life a-whirling; to everything there is a season (but the most hopeless prophet inked that one).

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