Two Girls

She remembers my shoes. And my old clothes. What is she talking about? Why have I no recollection about living in overly washed, faded by the sun hand-me-downs. I do remember we had many dreaming days. I do remember missing her when she left our home town. She was my best friend for the better part of my childhood. She was as strange as me. Two shiny glorious misfits We were a joyful twosome. She read books, so many books and i played make-belief.

We meet years later as women. Really, nothing has changed. We are still equally joyful. A little more experience under our belts. Still daring to dream. We discuss books, broken hearts, good wine and of course the world at large and at small. I want to convince her to come to Barcelona with me. Will she? We will see. She's sits on the couch next to meet texting and remembering me as a child, not knowing she is the subject of my blog entry.

I love her and I know she loves me. It's always been unconditional. Here's to enduring friendships. Can I get an amen? Amen.

I wish such love for all of you.