Sleepwalking my way through life: "Eight"



"Eight"

Indeed.

Leaning on the counter in Gary's kitchen today, the sound of bacon and egg sizzling in the background and the feel of sunlight on my skin, I listened to people talk about how things are, how things used to be, and how things could be. I feel at home.

Sitting in our little corner in the Crush, chattering away all at once and laughing along with jokes and jests. I could easily drift to sleep in comfort.

Standing in Glasgow Central, talking to random friends, feeling the cold air dash into my coat as Marie wraps her arms around me, I feel warmer than ever.

In all these situations I have the complete certainty of one thing. I am amongst friends.

I stood, eating my roll and egg, talking with Gary and Maddy about the way things are. Talking about certain people and how they react to things.

"Joe," Gary began, "I'm not just saying this because you're here, but you're the only one in the group who seems genuinely happy. And you're happy when other people are happy. It's like, if someone else is happy you have no resentment towards them, you are happy that they're happy, you're not secretly pissed off that they have something you don't."

And Jesus that hit me like a train.

I feel special when I'm with my friends. I feel valued. I feel loved.

And so I end this post here. I've just realised that this could be considored as boasting, and that's the last thing I want to do. And besides, if I keep going on about how good life is it's bound to fuck up on me eventually.

But I know I'll sleep soundly tonight.

Eight
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