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The Family I Get to Choose
I love that sometimes they know me better than I know myself. My moods, my body language, facial expressions, they read them like they're an open book. I need only to look down and close my eyes in desperation, and as soon as I open them there are a pair of wide open arms, offering a much needed embrace; a lap for me to rest my head on, and a hand to trace random shapes on my side, comforting me. And sometimes what they have to offer is the best gift of all, time, patience, a sharp ear and an open heart.
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