Some people pass through your life.
And some stay, even when they’re not around.
She’s one of those. We don’t talk every day. Sometimes months pass. But she’s still there, woven in.
When we talk, I can be myself – the raw parts, the heavy parts. We cheer each other on in different ways.
She moves lighter than I do. More smiles, more dancing, but we both feel the weight of life. We just carry it differently.
This morning she called, right when I’d been really missing her – That’s how it is with us.
Some people leave.
Some people quietly stay.
Comfortable in my corner 