dreams do come true
Since I relocated to Indiana last fall for school, my husband and I have fallen into habits about how we keep in touch, all of which revolve around the puppies. I FaceTime him when the boys eat, he FaceTimes me two hours later when the girls are patiently waiting for one of us to say, go ahead . I get up early, here in the eastern time zone, and usually there are a few texts from him from the night before when I do, pictures of the girls curled up asleep, or funny things that they had done. I feed the boys, head out to swim or run, and I'm usually making my own breakfast when a text pops up on my phone, good morning . Wednesday. I was about halfway through my 6am swim when I realized that there hadn't been any texts from him that morning, and I got a bad feeling. I'm an anxious worrywart by nature, but I couldn't shake it. I kept swimming, more and more frantic, until finally I pulled myself up on the deck to dig my phone out of my bag and text him, just checking