When you are drinking red wine out of a juice cup

and you are not a mom yet

when you write letters to the people you most care about

because they are out of contact.

These will be the nights that it will be most important to remember

that time is just a passing thing

and sometimes

even though life is short

even though it is even fleeting

you just sort of …

gotta get through it, ya know?

When I close my eyes, I see baili hi and we are climbing the mountain to the waterfall.

But we aren’t. We are in North Carolina

and you are going through hell.

I am not. Going through hell that is.

I’m just

getting through it, ya know?

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Growing up my family was in the business of taking in strays

you qualified if :

a family member no longer spoke to you

someone you loved recently died

friends were hard to come by

you were lacking in the family department

you were bored

Or you liked food and could handle a loud house.

But in these times — a stray friend knocking seems like a mooch at your door step, someone come to steal the peace.

However, I find that when I open my door wide anyway, they rarely seem that way for long.

Rather, they tend to make good company

As it stands, I am a stray now myself.

Maybe we were the strays the whole time.