Correspondance Thursday/Friday. And Merry Everyday, too.

Wherever I seem to be, there you are.

You, darling Elizabetta, have pretty much seen and heard it all when it comes to the tales my life spins. And when I was 24 and made a great leap into a massive unknown and landed in New York, you quickly became a safety net. Perhaps I didn't take full advantage of you and me, us in this city. But all along, there haven't been many greater comforts than just knowing you were here.

You know everything about me, and yet you love me anyway.

(I think that often about those nearest to my heart.)

There have been road trips and giggle fits. Chocolate sundaes and french fries, and Tasti-Delight, too. Anxieties. Weight Watchers and long walks. Photo shoots. The Brooklyn Bridge. Boston. Every city and every interstate in the greater Southeast. Warm afternoons in Bryant Park. Bad musicals. Music. Oh goodness, the music. Haircuts and boys in eyeliner. Jobs. Hobbies. Fails. Wins. Losses. Second, third and fourteenth chances. Compassion and love. Change. Acceptance. Jesus.

You've spared the kindest words that have ever been said to someone like me. I am grateful to have shared a time in our lives that nothing and no one will ever be able to touch. And I love that our lives are so similarly connected, so absolutely unplanned that we'll never have to worry about the silly little things like time and distance that seem to bog others down.

I would never have made it this far without you. And although I hate that we can no longer have instant adventures, I am positive that in the grand scheme of things "we" are not only far from over - we have barely begun. I'm happy to share you with a world that needs you. I can't wait to continue to be able to point and say "See her? She's my friend."

Love. Love. Love.