A short story a good friend of my wrote... She's a little shy so I thought I post this for her.

My waking life I am trudging through a storm, the rain is pounding, the wind is battering me, the thunder is deafening and the lightning is blinding. Armed with only a rain coat and a pair of wellies to protect me from the weather, it's not enough I am drowning in it. The storm rages on and it's so confusing I have no Idea where to go, I just keep walking praying I am facing the right direction. Sleep comes in the form of a rickety old shed, cold, lonely and abandoned full of leaks, almost blown down, sagging with the burden of the storm. I take off my coat and boots and huddle in the corner, still getting wet from the persistent rain, not being able to hear myself think over the roaring rage outside of my small, dirty, cold and empty hovel. How am I meant to relax in this? Then someone barges in, they don't ask, they're incessant and demanding, their love for you makes them hard. They pull you to your feet and help you plug the holes in the roof, light a fire and warm you with the body heat from their warm embrace. Their soft, sweet nonsensical words whispered in your ear draw your focus from the dreary nightmare your every waking moment has become. Wrapped in the love of friendship you can relax, restore and rejuvenate yourself. Holding tight to their hands you can face the storm and walk a little further every day. Still lost, confused and blinded you clasp their hands tight, stand tall and just put on foot in front of the other knowing one day your storm will end.