Today I find myself missing my open diary family. Though sometimes I went months without checking in on them, reading their stories, or writing my own, I thought about them daily. Every day I remembered… remember… one particular friend who has the most beautiful writing. To be honest, I don’t remember his name. I never have been good at that. I want to call him Dave, but who knows. I remember him and I privately talking many times about family and the secrets we learn. We talked about adoption and loss. We talked about meaningful relationships in our lives. We talked in color. He had a profile picture of just his eyes. I will never forget it. I can still feel the intense beauty of them peering into my soul through the computer screen. They will be with me always. They will remind me that the hard times make the good times that much more beautiful. I would give anything to have the chance to find that friend again. To tell him my own adoption story. To show him all the colors of my brain. Dear friend. I hope you are well. I miss you.
And the blue jumped with a thump into the swirling orange yellow fluff of life on the horizon. Dancing. Into dark.
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