Dear Friends,
The Universe works in mysteriously ironic ways.
Tonight, as I was clearing the message box of my cell phone, I realized that this morning I'd missed two texts from Him. From a few minutes of each other, one was informing me that he was sick, the other hoping I wouldn't send him packing too, because he had asked for soup. His accusatory message that arrived thirty minutes later, was a reaction to my "insensitive" silence.
The unnoticed texts don't make a difference in my decision to close the Diary series. However, had I read them, I could've sent him a decent reply, instead of portraying myself as a heartless B.
I feel very guilty for hurting his feelings. All I can think about now, is Oliver Twist and his bowl of soup!
Although I would've enjoyed playing the part of the "Older Woman" for just a bit longer, I'm not really sorry about this "jeu de hasard." It too must have happened for a good reason. Accepted and filed. What have you accepted this evening?
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