As I sit here, on the eve of the last day of ever living in Joliet ever again, I am reminded of the 33 years of pure hell this city has given me, by bullying me, and telling me not only what I should do in my bedroom, but my own house. While I don’t have many good memories of this city, I do have good memories of some of the angels who have come to my rescue when I was down. Some have been mentioned on this blog before, some have not. I have already thanked them on my personal Facebook page for everything they have meant to me in my life.
But I will take the opportunity again to thank my husband. He’s proven to me I didn’t have to travel the universe to find the one, I just had to look in my back yard. But I did have to travel the country to fight for love.
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