Other Humans
I have friends and they are wonderful people. All of them. They are all remarkable, accomplished and unendingly fascinating. I wonder why they want to be friends with me sometimes and I am not saying this so people can tell me that I am amazing or other flattering things. This is not an appeal to receive tons of compliments but a true bit of confusion. I am not exciting at all really. I write small stories and not so many of those in recent years and I work at a library. I have two lovely daughters and a very kind, understanding husband whom I adore. I am lucky, blessed, happy and mostly in a good place.
The thing is this - I am not remarkable. I am normal. I know and accept this. My friends start businesses in the spare fifteen minutes they have before bed. My friends plan trips that take them to exotic places, cost little because they are savvy and sought after and so they add stamps to their passport. My friends go to fabulous restaurants, order non-traditional foods that taste like ambrosia to the gods and they eat half because they have superhuman self control. My friends survive cancer, write a book about it, get it published and then introduce me as a writer. My friends get new cars for their birthdays and it is a surprise, they are thrilled and then tell me all about their dream car and I am astounded. Any car someone decides to give me is my dream car. lol. It occurs to me that my standards are set sort of low. HAHAHAHAHA!
These people are like the sun with their own gravitational pull. I am a sprinkling of stardust so minute, you might miss me blowing by if you blink. I don't feel substantial. I don't feel important. I am constantly being told that I am the best friend any of these people have ever had but then put on hold for another friend with a problem that is more pressing. It is a continuous stream of actions that let me know I am less important and I wonder if I am the same way. It occurs to me that maybe we are all like this. Maybe I need to self-examine. I am good at this.
I should concentrate on what I can control and I cannot control how others treat me, nor can I control that there are actually people who need my friends more than I do often times. It is reality and not required to be fair. I need to grow up, suck it up, get over myself, and pay attention to what I do and how I treat others. There is the part I can do something about. There is nothing else.
The rain is falling in a big torrential downpour and it makes me fall in love with the night. Tea is perfect for drinking. Cat is purring and curled tightly. I am happy with these things. It doesn't matter that my friends aren't able to chat. I am spoiled and whinging. Blessed with friends and family and feline.
It is raining. I love it.