I'm home. Ordinarily when I get home from a trip to see you, I'd call you and tell you I got home safely. But I can't call you. I can only think about you and how I wish I could call you and tell you I enjoyed our time together, and I enjoyed what we did and where we ate and things we did. Except we didn't.
I still hurt so deep that I can't breathe. I wish I could call and tell you.
I love you,
Vicki
