where my demons hide.

There’s something special about the friends who don’t need to ask how you are to know how you are.  They can see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice, sense it in your silence.  It’s a privileged knowledge that takes time to build, a sacred space that not all can see.  Whether joy or pain, they know.

Our lives are made so much sweeter by having friends who rejoice with us when things are splendid and who mourn with us when things aren’t so lovely.  It’s an honor when someone trusts you enough to bear the inner layers of their soul and a courageous risk when you reveal yours to another.

But this is what we’re made for, right?  To be connected, to feel known, to feel loved and accepted despite our flaws and shortcomings.  The absence of love, connection, and belonging leads to suffering; the presence of these yield a beautiful sense of understanding, worth, and acceptance.

It’s the people in our life that matter most.  And I’m so thankful for the people in mine.












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