Sometimes it’s hard being the only one who always has the words, even when I cannot find them. It’s hard to sit in silence when the silence should be filled. I turn to my pages and fill them with words- words that have otherwise been ignored in my life, words that I cannot say out loud, words that I cannot empty my head of. I know you know what I mean. These words cannot be wasted on just anyone when they are so precious to us and so we wait for the right moment or maybe the moment when we cannot think of these words anymore and then we let them spill forward. But not in a reckless, haphazard way. No we find a beautiful way to say the most ugly things because sometimes making those ugly things beautiful any way we can is the only way we can endure them. We are birds of a feather. Most times you understand what I am trying to say and sometimes I understand what you meant and this is when we come together to remind ourselves that we are not alone.