This is something that brought us together as young girls 20 years ago and again and again as women, and most importantly, as mothers.
We sat there for hours. Lava rock and water. Probably two hour, which is a lot for a child's attention span, in silence, watching the puddles in the rock turn into tiny worlds right before our eyes.
The sky gets prettier somehow in the winter: Darker and deeper, but gentle. When it gets breezy, the clouds move swiftly across the islands, you can watch it sail away... how neat it must be to find an island in the middle of the ocean.
I grew up with some of the chillest spiders on the planet.
The truth is that everything still hurts. All the pain I've chased away, hidden, ran from, pretended wasn't there, and of course, there's, the pain I've clung to and somewhat cherished, that is still there too. You see, sometimes pain is the only thing you have left from something else.
But to choose only one side of myself to share? I'd lose myself, atleast half of myself, along the way. And when you write against your heart and when you share yourself disingenuously, it's so obvious and such a turn off
But thinking back, it was never about the show we were about to put on, but it was always about the bonding. Here we were facing our biggest moments and milestones in life and our closest friends were readily available to hold our hand through it. Craft night, planning meetings, party prep... it was all just an excuse to gather and enjoy company with a purpose.