Collecting stones

She was looking disappointed, yet somewhat relived when she concluded, after going through hell for several months: "It's a cleansing feeling to lose 90% of the people you thought to be your friends."

90%! I counted: indeed, only a mere 10% of her friends were still there, supporting her when she needed them. I felt lucky to be one of them. At the same time, though, I feared to have to go through the same experience, being let down by people I felt near and struggled so much to call my friends.

But things would come to closure sooner than I thought.

Christmas 2008 was revealing to me. Going through some harsh times, I chose not to write, not to call, not to be nice and not to speak up. To stop being Mrs. goody-two-shoes for once. To stop struggling for love.

And indeed. The 90% wasn't such a high number after all.

Some kitten told me once that holiday wishes are the result of the networking you had done in the previous year. This year, networking finally stopped to be a concern of mine, and Christmas became, in lack of a big meal, in lack of many calls, mails and sms'es, next to the three persons I love most, a feast of pure and simple joy.

Make this a tribute to the duck, the deer, the elephant, the squirrel and the turtle, who managed to show me that it's useless to collect stones.

You are my heroes of 2009.