I can feel my head starting to clear, as I pull the car over and park. Coming here is like pressing a reset button for my day. Looking at my grandparent’s old house across the street, I let my mind take me back to my childhood.
Do I know you? I follow your blog, and I read your thoughts, but does that mean I know you?
Do you know me? I write honestly, and I share
too much openly, but do you know me?
I have a handful of friends, provided a handful equals three. More specifically, I have three friends whom I stay in touch with on a regular basis (meaning we make contact more than four times a year) and could easily identify in a line-up (not that any of the three would find themselves in a line-up).
These three friends are my friends within the real world. I see them. I touch them. (Hugs, people. Jeepers.) And, sometimes – when they pass gas, I can smell them.
My marriage is not perfect. In fact, I started this blog over two years ago, because my marriage wasn’t perfect. I was a mess, the marriage was a mess, and I needed an outlet. (Writing, people. My outlet was writing.)
Fast forward to today, and my marriage is solid, not perfect – solid. Rob and I will celebrate our 10th anniversary later this year, and it has taken us nearly 9 years to solidify our marriage.