I’m reading a book on Teddy Roosevelt next. I fear for the worst

Yesterday was a sad day. You will understand after you read this post.

We were at my boyfriend’s parents’ house. He was working from home and with John Adams in hand I commandeer the porch swing overlooking the ocean.

For hours I’m immersed. I finish the book. Still sobbing and wiping snot away with the back of my hand I head inside. My boyfriend thinks I have a cold. He asks,

“You have the sniffles?”

“No. John Adams died!”

“You’re crying because John Adams died?”

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