Every Picture Tells a Story

I never had many friends growing up.

I was just a weird kid, and there's nothing worse that being different when you're a kid. Come to think of it, I'm not sure how different it is as an adult.

And then one day I had lots of friends... or at least some. Each wonderful. Each special in their own way. For my eighteenth birthday, my wonderful Mother rented a limo.

I haven't had many great birthdays... more often than not, it's a disaster. But this one... I have yet to top it. I'm not sure I ever will.

I can't remember what we did. I just know that we were young and free. There was laughter. And joy. We were still young and stupid enough to believe we would always be friends. And of course, we had our whole lives ahead of us.

I envy those kids. The light in their eyes... the laughter... the hope. If I could get back one day, I think it would be that one.

It's one of those days that makes it all worth while.