a birthday story.
Once upon a time, a girl had a life and a heart and dreams and fears and many, many words to share. Carrying around all those words and fears and dreams—and even that heart at times—was exhausting. But she did it, mostly because she didn’t know what else to do.
One day, that girl met another girl.
And even through they were far, far away, and even though they could only reach each other through their computer screens and keys, they became very fast friends.
The girls worked together and they laughed together. Sometimes they cried together, too. And sometimes—even though one girl lived in this country and one girl lived in that—they could feel each other and they would smile and laugh or pause and worry, even when they weren’t connected to their screens.
These girls continued on their happy romance, sneaking messages by text, email and sometimes by owl. Yes, life was rather grand.
One day, not so once upon a time, that girl with the life and the heart, the dreams and fears and all those words to carry, realized that she felt much lighter these days and she began to wonder in the way that some girls do—and then she saw it clear as day.
When you have a friend—an I’ve-known-you-before-I-knew-you friend—she helps you find a purpose for all those words, and her words will inspire your words and your words will do the same for her and all the words will have a life together—making things far-less exhausting, indeed.
She helps you find a use for all those dreams, too—all those “what ifs” become “why nots” and you’ll find yourself wearing dreams like badges of your remarkable reality-making potential.
And the fears? She helps you cast banishing spells on those fears with potions and songs and deep belly howls.
As for the heart—well, their hearts had an unshakable sisterhood from the moment they met. They kept each other open and honest and true. So the burden of that heart was transformed to something beautiful.
When the girl woke this morning, her heart spoke first: it’s her birthday today, let’s retell our story.
So she did.
—this post was grown on the gram.