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Visiting Hours are Over, Ma'am

Three whole months. A possible signal of the end of my girlhood, my fertility. Three months since I felt the twinge of cramps, slight headache, and body aches that have been my predictable companion since I was eleven. 

Sometimes a curse, sometimes a welcome relief due to a careless encounter, but mostly just an annoyance. 

Until now. 

Now I long for it the way someone might long for an ex. Just call. Please. This can’t be over. I need you to feel whole. I am not yet ready to admit that I just turned 51 and this is the last half. 


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