Once, in high school, I was at the Target at 80th and Wadsworth with a friend, walking in the parking lot, and I felt such a giant surge of joy that I wanted to take her hand, to squeeze it in mine, and look into her eyes and say, “I am so happy right now. Happy to be alive. Happy to be here, in this parking lot, with YOU.” But I didn’t. I was afraid somehow. That she wouldn’t like it. That it would embarrass her or me.

Now that I’m grown, I’d do it in a heartbeat, shazam.

I love my friends. The one who shares my bed. The ones that purr. The one who tells me I am awesome. The one who paints me pictures. The one who remains silent on a triple-dog-dare. The one who is four. The ones who bought my book. The ones who didn’t.

I am greedy for them. Greedy for their voices. Greedy for their hugs. Greedy for their laughter. Greedy for their smiles. Greedy for their wit. Greedy for it all and to give everything I’ve got right back. I think it’s the way to be. I really and truly do.

…

p.s. – the water was frigid.