Every day she built a house of cards, from her specific set of 52 hearts. She built different kinds from a one story ranch, a little cottage, an igloo, a 5 story walk-up, a teepee, and even a treehouse on top of a tiny tree — all of places where she always imagined you two might build a life of your own, but all of which would fall apart by the end of the day. Still, she would build and build and build and every day it would be something different, in hopes that this time it wouldn’t break, but little did she realize that paper will always be too weak to stand on it’s own, and what she really needed was a house made of stone, one strong enough to hold what you have together, one solid enough never to break down. But what does it matter how long that could hold when you don’t even want to come out from the cold to join her in this place of warmth? — a place she built for you two to own, only to become a place she realizes she might have to live in, alone.