 Every girl needs a good friend and a glass of wine |
Saturday, February 4th, 2012 |
You couldn't keep up with life. It was like fabric running and moving away from you. It was so sad and marvelous, like the whole other galaxies my mother told me about when we looked at the stars, those places we could never know and over which we had no control. Last time we'd talked about that, I'd told her thinking of such things made me feel scared. "Why?" she'd asked, and I'd said because it was all too big and it made me feel small and worthless. "Ah," she'd said. "Well then, this is the part where we hold hands." I'd put my hand in her lap and wrapped her fingers around my own. "Better?" she'd asked, not taking her eyes from the sky. "Yes," I'd said, relieved and laughing, and she'd said quietly, "That's what people are for each other."
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