Friday partaaaay

'Got cocktails and dinner with myGlobe girls tonight.

Arlene just called and asked me to join her before midnight. We're attending another party.
Okaaaay - another spur of the moment invite.

Looking forward to margaritas with the ladies and some QT with my bestie.
Not sure if the party's gonna rock -- but let's see.

Not bad. Not bad at all!

Lieu de refuge

In difficult moments, I find comfort in life's simple pleasures.

I don't want to stop being grateful.

I don't regret the best friends that I kept... and the ones that I lost.
They were kept and lost for good reasons.

Very simple things give me simple joys as of late, but I do cherish them.

I'm glad I met Emy and Aileen. The superficial conversations about our design work make me forget - no matter how temporary.

It is not schadenfreude but I'm comforted that someone truly and sincerely understands what I'm going through. Arlene may not know everything and I may not know all the details on her end, too, but it's a relief that someone is with me in the process.

Kyle lets me fulfill my nurturing instincts. I don't ever regret getting him and spending so much for him to recover.

I'm glad Ate Cita is there to sincerely look after me and hand me the tissue when I cry, pretending that it's because of Ally McBeal or Lipstick Jungle reruns.

My mother is my cheerleader.

This will be another long, arduous journey.

If I can't get away from it, I might as well embrace what is bound to happen.

But thank you.

Thank you for the momentary recluse.

Thank you for the inner circle who may not know why, how, what I'm going through - who respects the privacy I requested for yet swore an oath of allegiance to be there.

Thank you.

You are my crutch.

Dark cloud

Another one of those conversations with Arlene.

Me: 'Can't help but think we died at age 31. Too young. Too preemptive a strike.

Arlene: We died too young, and we will be buried too late.

Death can be sudden. Nobody really knows for sure what is beyond death - is it just really a flat line or is there really salvation?

The thing with emotional slaughter is you wake up every morning to relive the pain of losing your hope... your future. Over and over and over.

We may have died, Arlene.

But is there hope for resurrection?

I'd like to think so.