She has one friend in the traditional sense, the gal she went to high school with. She doesn’t really consider anyone else a friend unless you count that guy she’s still in love with cause she does but this world and reality suggests you might not agree.

She likes to serve people but finds it difficult to be served because it makes her uncomfortable. One time her mother drove her to the car dealership to retrieve her car and she marveled for days that she couldn’t recall the last time she’d been in the passenger’s seat.

She’s a single mom too and has lots of kids. Most are well behaved but she’s been in a power struggle with her oldest for a while, a boy who required her to pull all of her masculine energy to the forefront. Like all families they too have a secret. The boy punched her in the face once in anger and it shocked her. She had no one to call for help, at least no one who would not tear her family apart. So she made it their secret and told the counselor he had anger issues. He talked about his pain then they talked about his pain and he’s better but on occasion he’s not and she wonders if he’ll hit her again so she acts tough, much tougher than she feels. It’s been a few years and so far so good.

It’s hard being a single parent but everyone knows that.

She goes out more than before and does it because she read somewhere that it’s healthy. She likes quiet places and most of the time they like her too.

She’s pretty emotional and at one time spent thousands of dollars on psychics because she was insecure about herself and her life. They weren’t honest by any stretch of the imagination but they soothed her with their voices and subliminal messages. It took her years to realize she was keeping herself stuck but she’s better now. Well, she thinks so cause she’s moving forward whatever that might mean. Course she wonders what life will look like in a year and whether moving forward in words and reality will really converge into something meaningful or beneficial, at least to someone besides herself.

She dreams a lot. In fact, life is mostly a dream for her. In reality it’s mostly work and balancing emotions but in her dreams she doesn’t marvel at sitting in the passenger seat, she just smiles cause life feels balanced.

She likes to write but only cause she believes it has a purpose. She writes because of him, cause she loves him, cause he’s her muse but mainly because her heart tells her to. Some may find the way she spends her time unwise but she’s okay with that cause other people’s thoughts don’t really do much for her.

It’s hard living in this world but everyone knows that.

She’s got plans but not the kind you might expect. She hasn’t set out a blueprint to plot out the location of her home nor has she identified her dream job. She’s pretty stoked with the home she’s been promised. Somewhere far far away. She’s also got a husband but then again not in the way you might expect. She’s pretty set on her purpose. She’s been gifted an unending desire, an unquenchable thirst to find ways to serve and love others. Sometimes it feels like everything except a gift but she knows it is so. Her plan therefore is to serve her heart as far and wide as she’s led. Then over and over again until she’s dead.

Loving is easy and showing it tends to be the hard part but everyone knows that.

When you lose yourself it might just be cause you’re loving others and that’s not always a bad thing. Like art, love is always messy.

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