My greatest beauty is my honesty. My second greatest beauty is my butt but that disappeared during pregnancy. My third beauty is one that many would disagree with and that is my ability to feel.
Most people would not call it a beauty at all.
I’m a little bit of a loose canon to those who love and know me the best. You never know where I’m going to go or how I’m going to react to something. Some people call this explosive.
“Watch out! Thar’ She BLOWS!”
Don’t get me wrong. It’s not like I’m angry all the time. I’m generally a happy person but I believe that those who feel deeply feel all emotions deeply – happiness, anger and sorrow.
I make friends easily but I don’t keep them long. I’m not an easy friend. I forget to come to things. I flake out on people. I don’t talk to them for months though they live minutes away. I know some of you are nodding your heads right now in agreement. I know this about myself. I’m not being critical, I’m being honest.
This is not a beauty. It’s a nuisance and I know it.
When I find a friend that is willing to deal with my flakiness and my over-emoting I am pleasantly surprised. This friend is a true treasure indeed.
It is rare and special and greater nourishment to me than any food.
This week I am sad, in the truest sense. Sad in the deep and wet and cold way that true sadness really is. I hate that I can’t explain myself.
I’m sad for a friend, for a loss, for not being able to be close. I’m helpless: all I can do is feel deeply for this friend. I can not say anything worthwhile. I can not make a cookie that will take away hurt. I can not write a song that will express the bigness of what I’m feeling.
This blog doesn’t even help.
How I wish I could be with you, friend. How grateful I am for you.
You are not alone.