Ayer
So yesterday I went to a couple Art Galleries with Aunt Rachel. It was very therapeutic. Not because the paintings were lovely--they weren't. I only saw a couple that I really liked. And not because I didn't work--even though I didn't. But because we got to talk. Aunt Rachel is one of those people who know how to listen. She asked me a couple questions and then let me ramble on and on about everything in general and nothing in particular. Cathartic release. I feel much better now. I told her some stuff I had done a couple years ago--nothing terribly evil, just some stupid stuff that I don't know WHY I did it--and she didn't say what a horrible person I was or how glad she was that I had come to my senses. She just listened to me vent and I know I can trust her.
I love Aunt Rachel.