Fuzzy blanket

*sigh* I’ve finished my childhood series and am coming to terms with that odd space between saying farewell to a fictional friend and finding a hold on my own reality. I realize this has spoilers so edit this however you like, but like I said before, her relationship held so many similarities to mine, it was almost startling that I’d find such cathartic comfort in my childhood books…where she tearfully asked the same questions I had…like if you’d ever been with “someone who makes you feel lonely…not all of the time…but a lot of the time.” The moments in between where conversation just takes a little more effort than it should…his disinterest in things you want to discuss…and the stark contrast when you come alive in the midst of your friends…the physical chemistry but little else besides the dutiful recap of the day…knowing they’re a good person but still asking yourself why it’s not working, excusing it as practical/normal give and take…listing off the qualities that are good and still finding yourself asking “What more could I want?” and yes, the lack of joy—and how I dearly love to laugh…desperately questioning yourself, trying to exercise self-awareness, asking “What if I’m looking for the perfect man and he doesn’t exist?” It was seriously like reading a list about my own relationship…and then also tearfully reading everything to come and hoped for to come. “You’ll feel like you’re coming home.” In my years of single independence, I never concerned myself with settling down and I long for either that previous contentment, or that feeling of coming home. Her recovery and subsequent story was great…I’m not sure what I was expecting, as I knew the story continued until she was 60…I think maybe I was afraid there was just a huge jump and a lengthy recap or the waxing on of a middle-aged protagonist, but I was delighted to follow her journey through the ups and downs of marriage and parenthood. I appreciated the change of tone as she matured, and I couldn’t have asked for a better ending for my friend. My heart got a much needed hug from this and perhaps squeezed a couple pieces back together. I’ll miss my friend and will revisit her on a rainy day. Until then, be well and God bless.

Sometimes I feel that the series was written for a very special person, and I think you must be one of those special people.  I’m so glad that it meant that much to you.  Often we find in literature a reflection of ourselves, and when the right book comes along at just the right time, it’s something we don’t forget.  Thank you very much for a letter I’ll treasure….