If we’re going to be friends, I have a request: Show me your soul, not your shoes.
I’m not interested in who makes your clothes or how much you paid for your car. And I don’t care where you shop, whether designer boutique or discount store.
What I do want to know is who you are beneath the facade you present to the world; the real you, warts and all.
What inspires you and what brings you to your knees? What memories fill your heart and claw at your soul? What are your demons and desires?
I want to know the secrets you’ve never shared out of fear the world would burn you alive.
I’m here. I’m listening.
Let’s go to the places pretending and posturing can’t take us, and roll around in the depths of our hearts, our minds and our souls.
Show me who you really are. Bare your soul and I’ll bare mine.
Surely, that’s where the magic is.
Love this. Resonating in my soul. You’re beautiful. Thank you for being in my life.
From one writer to another, that means so much to me. Love you right back, Janine.