I am never able to relax. Right now I worry about a friendship that may never come to be. A quite unique sort of friendship, thriving on our many faults. I have trouble understanding this person I want so much to be friends with. Why is it so hard. I feel what she says to me is false--the copied thoughts of someone else. I have read these same words in a book, and it makes me question her story. I have not yet dismissed it but it makes me wonder. My father said the pie I made was the best he'd ever had. Thanks, I feel much better. I cannot go back to that place to visit her. I can never return unless as a patient. I don't know how to explain myself. It's just a thing I cannot do. Ever. It's more than I can take. But how can I be her friend if I don't go? I feel so alone. Still no one understands my pain.
