Vendredi/Samedi/Dimanche

I spent this weekend with my older sister and my brother-in-law and my younger sister and my niece to be. There were brownies and coffee and coffee and coffee.
And my best friend.
K showed up. I was tired as ever and worried about French homework and in mid-laughter when she walked through the door in her red shoes. I didn't know, I didn't realize it was her. It was like a dream. I really believed it was a dream, because if you knew how many times I imagine her walking through a door where I am, you might be sad for me. But it was real.
It was real this time.
We sat shoulder to shoulder on a yellow couch and I was too happy.

I learned so much this last week. Here is one of my best things.
You will never truly be happy until you realize that your life is not about you.
Here is my worst thing.
I want to make people laugh. I don't know how to do that, and never before this Friday have I wanted more than ever to make people laugh.

Life is all colors and bliss these days.
I don't know what I want. I don't know who is going to walk through my door. I don't know what to do.
And that is not a sin.
Not knowing is not a sin. Because my life is not about me. The most fabulous thing about that though is that I know it. So here's to coffee and making things and going places and seeing people and "Madeline" and not knowing.

Here is to not being sure.

socks.

Dear Fleur.
Woke up this morning with my Mamie shaking me by the shoulders.
Rolled out of bed.
Tired eyes.
Piled my hair on top of my head.
Pulled a white knit cable sweater on.
Looked out the french doors and saw the snow on the ground.
& Skyped Sam.

This boy.

(That lovely lady is Kaylene. She's a brilliant soul.)

He's doing fine. Caught a petite cold. But fine.
We talked about socks. And people who hate us. Did you know, not a lot of people hate me? I never thought of that. But then I wonder, how many people actually love me? And I think, if putting all of my pairs of socks on someone's doorstep would make them love me, I would do it. But I'm a ridiculous person. So I don't know.
What would I do to get someone to like me?
Really. How far would I go?
And do people actually like me?
Really. In their hearts?

I LIKE SOCKS TODAY.
I have tube socks running through my head.

Love from Bell.

White.

Dear Fleur.
This morning I said my prayers, and I prayed for this boy.

He lives in Afrika now.
But he wrote me this the other day.
"if you are white, they love you."
And I'm not going to lie, I liked that. I wanted to say something like that. One day I think I will. On purpose.
(Too much Francis Carco&Brian Andreas in my head this morning.)
Love from Bella.