One called today to let me know that having resumed residence in a residence motel, she'd cooked and wanted to bring me a nice meal.
One texted to let me know that she'd changed phone carriers and had a new number, and to check how I was doing.
One sent a message that she was back in town.
Christmas is over, and the gifts of three uncannily wise women is not something I need. Their insight into my soul is startlingly acute, since I am carefully honest in the short term. They know me, in pieces, that I do not want reassembled.
Is this maturity? Have I finally reached adulthood by letting go of my adolescent grasp of trouble?
My doppelganger, a friend I love with all my heart, has lived the straight and narrow life. He has a good home, a pretty girl he met in college, and a lawn to mow every Saturday. X2 made fun of me for empathizing with Hank Hill, but I know that he's happy.
As much as I want to mock that happiness, I cannot say that I am happier than he has been.