Childhoodtake2!

Every Friday we unite for five minutes to write on one word. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on visit.

Go.

There was a time in my life when we all lived together. A time we were all huddled in the same building, linked at the hip and constantly in each others lives. We would always be in PJS, or getting ready for a class or going out. We were family, if not by blood, then by experience.

And now, we all have found our person and have our own real families and each time we get together, each visit, awakens that girl in me. Visit seems too formal for who we are and what we mean and where we came from and what we went through together.

Who else would have helped me through break-ups and a bad grade? Who else would have held my hair back from bad choices, who else would have sang on the top of their lungs with me, and held my hand as we shared what happened.

There was a time we were so connected, so intertwined, family.

But now, our kids play together and love on each other. Now, my person adores your person and we have a different relationship, our visits mean the world to me. We were kids and we didn't realize the 35 year old us would be living these lives. Wouldn't it be simpler to just go down the hall, share a drink, a talk, and comfort? Wouldn't it be simpler to have all we needed at our finger tips and have our nights planned out.

Our visits, they mean the world to me because they remind me of a family I created for myself and the love we all shared.

Stop.