It is almost half past one. I have no air conditioner, and it is hot in my bedroom.
That being said, I think it is time I wrote something to detract from me wiping the sweat off my face in the middle of the night.
I have the most amazing group of friends you can ask for. They are this precious gift that I try to cherish and appreciate as much as I can every second of every day. Truly, the stories I could tell about them would make them blush and get really mad at the same time, so maybe I will skip that portion of the presentation, but I do have a way of telling you all about them without mentioning any of them by name or even hinting at what they do or any other revealing information.
Nothing fancy or showy, just a little story about me, and I think we all know which one.
I was sitting here, kind of like I am now actually. Overheated, tired and not able to sleep, and deep in my head over a lot of things both real and conjured. I reached out, they listened. Sometimes with the patience of a saint, sometimes just long enough to smack me and tell me to stop it. Sometimes with brutal logic other times with sweet emotions, sometimes a little of both.
They dug me out of a hole of my own design. They custom made a ladder for me to get out of the hole, gave me a soundtrack to listen to as I did and screamed encouragement to me until their faces were red and their voices raw. They stayed awake with me until the light came back through the windows and only then when they knew I was safe did they back away with a smile, ready to do it again the next second if need be.
I know I am needy, so very much so. I am a sad little panda sometimes, and other times I need to literally be told to maybe stop drinking coffee and come back to the plane of existence the rest of the world is on.
I love them, and even though I try to tell them as often as I can that I love them, I never really feel like I say it close to enough. I know it isn’t a contest, there isn’t a running tally.
Although, you see…
There have been catastrophic losses in my life and each time I wished I could have said, done, touched, laughed, cried…anything one more time. Done better. Been stronger. All of the what if games you ply in your head.
I can’t anymore. I can’t.
So I tell them I love them, I tell them I appreciate them and that they are the best parts of me that are not my children and I simply need to believe that is enough.
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