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For once, I have opened up to a few people about my concern over the shoes in my tree which is something historically I would have tried to cover up. Shoe? What shoe? I don't see any damn shoe! But I have found that turning to friends has been more helpful than I could ever have imagined. It has also made me see that the friendships I have made here in Boston perhaps run deeper than I had realized. The offers of unconditional support, the declarations of love, and the simple gesture of just being there for me when asked have made more a difference than you could possibly know (you know who you are).
I always thought I was good at the cover up. I put on a good face and strongly believe in the idea to fake it until you make it. I know now that for those of you closest to me see right through it, and it is pointless for me to pretend otherwise. That's quite a lesson for me. For those of you reading who haven't been so aware of what is going on...well, here it is. Now you know. Ask me about it and I will tell you more.
I know I am not being very specific here, and that is by direct intent. I rarely blog about issues that are this personal, and it feels a little funny to expose myself even this tiny bit. But I think it is the right thing to do right now.
OK... enough. Back to tits, beer, poker and travel summaries...
1 comment:
Nice metaphor, babe.
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