Visiting Days

It’s Sunday which means today is the day I go and see him,  a 30 minute drive there and back all for just 30 minutes to talk to him on a phone through glass.  Me doing most of the talking since his days are all the same. But only 2 more after today.  I dislike visiting so very much.  I had to visit my mother when I was child and it brings up so many bad memories.  Plus it’s Sunday I have to go back to work tonight and it’s the middle of the day I could be sleeping. Or better yet napping in the sun because the weather is beautiful. But I go and I don’t complain and I make sure I look good and plaster a smile on my face.  I have to go no one else will.  As long as he knows he has me,  dangerous thinking because once he gets out it won’t be good (not for long anyway)  I keep trying to decide if I am even going to let him Come Home.  I know I will but the thought of not letting him does cross my mind.  I love him to pieces but I shouldn’t be unpainted all the time and right now I am happy.  So very,  truly,  genuinely happy. 

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This was yesterday,  the smile reached my eyes,  hasn’t happened in a long time. 

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