That title sounds a bit like I'm going to divulge deep dark secrets, doesn't it? Ha. Fooled you. No, I was just feeling introspective. It has occured to me that I have many terrific people in my life. I really do. Smart people. Funny people. Incredibly good and caring people. And I have no idea why they put up with me.
Here's the thing, I'm not a nice person. I'm cranky a good bit of the time. I'm often impatient. I'm a know-it-all. I can be very sarcastic and cynical. I'm also a bit of a hermit and have been known to shun the company of others in favor of a good book.
But these people insist on staying in my life anyway. They talk to me without being cornered. They spend, sometimes, multiple hours in my company by choice. And when I start in ranting about something, they smile patiently as if they understand all about my dark side and love me anyway. Is it that they really don't know these things about me? Or do they find me absurdly fascinating and can't look away, like watching a train wreck about to happen. But no, these are good people. They wouldn't do anything so gauche.
Maybe they aren't as intelligent and insightful as I give them credit for, since they can't seem to see what's right under their noses. Or maybe, as Julie Andrews sang in "The Sound of Music," somewhere in my youth, or childhood, I must have done something good.
I don't have an explanation. But I am absurdly, ridiculously thankful for every one of you.