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Wed Sep 15, 2010 9:14 pm
eldEr says...



I glanced at the clock, anxiously. 10:28 at night. What time was it in L.A.? "'Night Rufus," I whispered, biting my lip. I didn't want him to hang up, but what was I supposed to do? Force him to stay on the line all night? He probably had to get up early in the morning, and if he thought Parker was going to be fine, he was probably right.

"Good-night Cam. And he'll be alright, don't worry. He's a touch little buggar."

I chuckle half-heartedly. The kid had broken his arm a couple months ago. Didn't cry a bit, I knew as well as anybody Rufus was a 'tough little buggar.' "Thanks. Sorry to wake you up."

"Sweet dreams."

I flipped my cell phone closed and headed up the stairs to my room. I couldn't seem to get the picture of Parker on the couch out of my head. The poor kid.

Somehow, I had fallen into a restless sleep before my mom had gotten back home.
Guuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurl.

got trans?








Owning our story can be hard but not nearly as difficult as spending our lives running from it. Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love and belonging and joy—the experiences that make us the most vulnerable. Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.
— Brené Brown