A Love Letter to Whiskey Page 82


It’s strong, to the very last drop.

I face the windshield again just as we park, the waves rolling in ahead of us, sunshine blazing hot on our shoulders. I inhale the salty breeze, letting go of the breath slowly, breathing in the moment. Sometimes I feel like we have to rush, but then I remember that time isn’t our enemy the way I always thought. Turns out, time is our friend — the friend we never listened to, but we’re learning how to more and more every day. The friend who might have always known a little more about us than we did.

You see, I may not always like his wife, and she may be far from perfect…

But I’m so happy she’s me.

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