My birthday. Last year. 55. Waking up alone at home. I remember tears.
This year. 56. Waking up together in a beautiful house in the Dordogne. A smile next to me. Everything has tumbled with my new love. He makes me happy. Makes me feel good and special. I am loved by him. And it is the same the other way round. What we have is special. We are aware of that. We'll treasure it. It is called: Love.