I always complain that I don’t have friends. That I am alone. Nobody there to talk to or to tell me it will be alright. But I’ve stared that lie in the face tonight. I realize I’ve never had to worry when I’m down. Someone is there. A collection of faces. Acquaintances, really, but friends through their actions. And it makes me feel sick that I ignore them so frequently. That I constantly expect nobody to help me through the rough patch.
There are a lot of people in this world that show very cruel sides. Very ugly, selfish sides. But for the group of people I have managed to meet in my lifetime, I am grateful. They are a wonderful people. An incredible group of caring, albeit flawed, but good people. Good souls.