This weekend I had a long talk with an old friend. For the sake of the story we'll say it's a male. And for the sake of the story we'll call that male say . . . Byron. Yes Byron is good. Byron told me all about plans he has for the future and thoughts going through his head, concerns in his life--while I just stayed quiet and listened. I sincerely was just trying to be supportive and therefore commented as little as possible. It's when I speak I cause problems. Byron is a good good guy; truly top notch. He and I are not meant to be, so don't think anything of this, but sitting there chatting with him, listening to him chat at me rather, I just remember thinking a number of things but predominantly, "What a lucky girl." It will be a very blessed special woman that gets his heart and his life and I'm happy for them both. Whoever she ends up being with he. I'd like to be a girl that someone will look at and think, "What a lucky guy." I'll work on that.
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