Its interesting to me that at 41 years of age, Im only now realizing that I am ok with the idea that you may not want to be my friend. Tonight I sat in a room full of people and wore a shroud of misery at the understanding that some are not, and may never be, friends. After a few hours of deliberate processing, I may be finally embracing this truth: I am not for everyone. Twisting myself into a facsimile of another will neither encourage my growth nor multiply my contentment.
Posted on: Sat, 02 Aug 2014 03:08:03 +0000
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