Inspired by The Right to Write by Julia Cameron. Write down every place you've lived and then pick one of those places to write about a vivid memory. (Written 3/13/24)…
I know I was at fault. I shouldn’t have left my friends. I should have made sure they were safe. There’s no excuse for being young and dumb and naïve. The memory of what happened to Rose, of losing her friendship, doesn’t seem like punishment enough for what I did. Which is probably why I buried the memory as long as I did.
If you love only those who love you, what good is that? Even scoundrels do that much. If you are friendly only to your friends, how are you different from anyone else?