Celebrations and The Room (literallyy)

To my room- my separate world, those who visited and those who never will.

Somewhere in my room lies a book with the same title.
Today I am celebrating myself, my being.
Yesterday, today and tomorrow I am celebrating everything that I am. Young, strong, loved, enabled, supported, understood.
I celebrate my understanding of gray that once handed me the wrong map but is now a friend, a prop.
I celebrate friends I have lost to time. I celebrate friends I have lost to ignorance. I celebrate friends that I have lost to any and each of seven deadly sins.
Each of them at times, in small doses.

I celebrate my disappointments that only teach me to ask too much, again.
I celebrate my greed, lust for life.

I celebrate my growing up, my ongoing rite of passage. My growing out of people and into myself again. My recognizing myself through people whom I'm not. My recognizing myself through people I love, people who share my inability to change, or my ability to change myself.

Mythical characters.
One of which turns out to be my threshold guardian, and I hers.

Homecomings, epic journeys and epic waiting!

I celebrate her light luggage, her memory loss.
I celebrate her teaching me light luggage and memory loss.

Mythical characters.
One of which is my helper. He stands quietly and disappears often.

I celebrate his abridged wisdom and his assertive tones.
I celebrate his disappearing on me when I don't need him.

Mythical characters go on and on. They are those who are dearest to me.