How do I write this?
How do I say the things I want to say? My mind is full of words, of feelings, of hurt and hope and happiness. But there's an awful lot of room there, too.
My friends are carefully chosen, perfectly imperfect people I need in my life. If you're reading this, you must be one of them.
I've grown up moving around an awful lot- 12 homes in 24 years. So friend-making wasn't a strong skill. While some kids may have jumped at the chance to have friends all over the world courtesy of the Navy, I think I got more introverted. I focused inward, not outward. As a kid, that can be difficult. To relate better to the adults in your life than your peers. To know that any friends you made could have orders across the world in a month.
This isn't a sob story. I think it used to be, but I don't want that anymore. I have met some amazing people in the last decade. I've laughed and cried, been hurt, been ignored, been cherished, been uplifted by them all in one way or another.
I think for a long time the hurts I felt from friendship long outweighed the happy. But in growing up, and in growing out, I think I've tipped that balance. Or maybe you've tipped that balance. Thank goodness, because if friends are family you choose, I've chosen the best for me.