Comradery

I think I'm no good at this. This writing this. I'm no good. One of my secret fears: all this studying has made me lose that creative part of myself. I guess it's not so secret that I want to keep all of myself intact, although I know we all grow and change. Perhaps I've not lost who I was but during this metamorphosis I've only molted the limiting parts of my consciousness.

I still have my friends, who share everything they have with me. This is Kelly's photography. He's always including me and I was silly to be so mad at him. Blame it on the hormones. What would I do without them? It's not beneath me to admit that I need them, often times more then they know.

Someone to hold my hand and lead me when I stumble. Someone to lift my heart up when I tremble. Someone to turn me towards the sun and recognize the day. Friends to encourage me. Friends who feed me. Friends who become my family.

Tiffany is having a girl, she just found out. She called me early and woke me up. Told me the news and the baby's new name. I'm going to be the godmother! Melissa just made me the mother of Harold, since she couldn't keep him any more.

I still need coffee before I'm functional. Last night's adventure has exhausted me a little. My sister came home and we're going to just chill for a bit before getting back to those books. My sister? She's my best. She just walked out here and said:

"How many of your friends do you know who have sisters who wash their bloody underwear?"

Answer is none and that's why my sister is the best!