I finished the short story I was working on. It ended up being a novella. LOL I'm working on editing/polishing it. Then (while another pair of eyes looks that over) I'm going to start editing Diary of an Incubus. It's about time I got that one off to my publisher:)
That's what I'm up to ... but something else is on my mind tonight. Someone I care about wants very much to come home for Christmas. Only home is never as sweet as his memories. It's full of judgmental relatives and a small town who claims to miss him, but never really knew who he was. It just breaks my heart. I've always known who he is and I couldn't imagine it changing the way I feel. I know what it's like to be misunderstood, although for different reasons. Most people (around here) don't get me at all. With the exception of a few close friends and family members, many people think I'm nuts. Or a total pervert. Some even think I'm goth because I like to wear black. LOL Whatever.
It just hurts my heart to think of him, wanting to be here ... but not feeling welcome. We are related, I'll say that much so I know what he faces when he does visit. I look forward each time to getting to see him (even though visits are usually at least a year apart). I think of him as being like me, not fitting in. I relate to being out of place and I too long for acceptance. Even though I'm independent and as the saying goes I'm a "grown ass woman," you never stop wanting your family's approval. The need to connect to others never goes away. Sure, they usually end up hurting your feelings ... but that means you've still got feelings and that's a good thing.
So if you're reading this and you know I'm talking about you. You are loved, you are missed, and you are always welcome.