“All I need isbackup. He’s the little angel that sits on my shoulder whispering in my ear,“You can do it!” It’s funny. I’m thirty years old now and I still feel like a littlegirl. I’m still looking around to check and see what other people are doingto make sure I’m not completely different; I’m still looking around for help,hoping for a quick nudge and a whisper of advice. But I can’t seem to be ableto catch anybody’s eye. Nobody else around me seems to be looking aroundand wondering what to do. Why is it that I feel like I’m the only person whois confused and concerned about the choices I’ve made and where I’mheaded? Everywhere I look, I see people just getting on with it. Maybe Ishould just follow suit and get on with it.”

“Once again, I don’t quite know where I’m headed Steph. It seems thatevery few years I’m shoveling up the pieces of my life and starting fromscratch all over. No matter what I do or how hard I try I can’t seem to reachthe dizzy heights of happiness, success, and security, like so many people do.And I’m not talking about becoming a millionaire and living happily everafter. I just mean reaching a point in my life that I can stop what I’m doing,take a look around me, breathe a sigh of relief, and think “I’m where I wantto be now.”

“When I started school I thought that people in sixth class were so oldand knowledgeable even though they were no older than twelve. When Ireached twelve I reckoned the people in sixth year, at eighteen years of age,must have known it all. When I reached eighteen I thought that once I finishedcollege then I would really be mature. At twenty-five I still hadn’t madeit to college, was still clueless and had a seven-year-old daughter. I was convinced that when I reached my thirties I was going to have at least some clue as to what was going on.Nope, hasn’t happened yet.So I’m beginning to think that when I’m fifty, sixty, seventy, eighty,ninety years old I still won’t be any closer to being wise and knowledgeable.Perhaps people on their deathbed, who have had long, long lives, seen it all,traveled the world, have had kids, been through their own personal traumas,beaten their demons, and learned the harsh lessons of life will be thinking,“God, people in heaven must really know it all.”But I bet that when they finally do die they’ll join the rest of the crowdsup there, sit around, spying on the loved ones they left behind and still bethinking that in their next lifetime, they’ll have it all sussed.But I think I have it sussed Steph, I’ve sat around for years thinkingabout it and I’ve discovered that no one, not even the big man upstairs hasthe slightest clue as to what’s going on.”

“To the most inconsiderate asshole of a friend,I’m writing you this letter because I know that if I say what I have to sayto your face I will probably punch you.I don’t know you anymore.I don’t see you anymore.All I get is a quick text or a rushed e-mail from you every few days. Iknow you are busy and I know you have Bethany, but hello? I’m supposed tobe your best friend.You have no idea what this summer has been like. Ever since we werekids we pushed away every single person that could possibly have been ourfriend. We blocked people until there was only me and you. You probablyhaven’t noticed, because you have never been in the position I am in now.You have always had someone. You always had me. I always had you. Nowyou have Bethany and I have no one.Now I feel like those other people that used to try to become our friend,that tried to push their way into our circle but were met by turned backs. Iknow you’re probably not doing it deliberately just as we never did it deliberately.It’s not that we didn’t want anyone else, it’s just that we didn’t needthem. Sadly now it looks like you don’t need me anymore.Anyway I’m not moaning on about how much I hate her, I’m just tryingto tell you that I miss you. And that well . . . I’m lonely.Whenever you cancel nights out I end up staying home with Mum andDad watching TV. It’s so depressing. This was supposed to be our summerof fun. What happened? Can’t you be friends with two people at once?I know you have found someone who is extra special, and I know youboth have a special “bond,” or whatever, that you and I will never have. Butwe have another bond, we’re best friends. Or does the best friend bond disappearas soon as you meet somebody else? Maybe it does, maybe I justdon’t understand that because I haven’t met that “somebody special.” I’mnot in any hurry to, either. I liked things the way they were.So maybe Bethany is now your best friend and I have been relegated tojust being your “friend.” At least be that to me, Alex. In a few years time ifmy name ever comes up you will probably say, “Rosie, now there’s a name Ihaven’t heard in years. We used to be best friends. I wonder what she’s doingnow; I haven’t seen or thought of her in years!” You will sound like my mumand dad when they have dinner parties with friends and talk about old times.They always mention people I’ve never even heard of when they’re talkingabout some of the most important days of their lives. Yet where are thosepeople now? How could someone who was your bridesmaid 20 years ago noteven be someone who you are on talking terms with now? Or in Dad’s case,how could he not know where his own best friend from college lives? Hestudied with the man for five years!Anyway, my point is (I know, I know, there is one), I don’t want to beone of those easily forgotten people, so important at the time, so special, soinfluential, and so treasured, yet years later just a vague face and a distantmemory. I want us to be best friends forever, Alex.I’m happy you’re happy, really I am, but I feel like I’ve been left behind.Maybe our time has come and gone. Maybe your time is now meant to bespent with Bethany. And if that’s the case I won’t bother sending you this letter.And if I’m not sending this letter then what am I doing still writing it?OK I’m going now and I’m ripping these muddled thoughts up.Your friend,Rosie”

“I generally don’t become overexcited about things anyway, I’m just not one of those people. I’m not easily surprised by things either. I think it’s because I expect that anything can happen”

“At first we had so much to catch up on we were talking a hundred words a second, barely even listening to the ends of one another's sentences before moving onto the next. And there was laughing. Lots of laughing. Then the laughing stopped and there was this silence. What the hell was it?It was like the world stopped turning in that instant. Like everyone around us had disappeared. Like everything at home was forgotten about. It was as if those few minutes on this world were created just for us and all we could do was look at each other. It was like he was seeing my face for the first time. He looked confused but kind of amused. Exactly how I felt. Because I was sitting on the grass with my best friend Alex, and that was my best friend Alex's face and nose and eyes and lips, but they seemed different. So I kissed him. I seized the moment and I kissed him,”

“I wonder if my watching him from the armchair is what it's like to be God, if there is a God. He sits back and sees the big picture, just as I could see that if the bluebottle just moved up a few inches, he'd be free. He wasn't really trapped at all, he was just looking in the wrong place. I wondered if God could see a way out for me and Mum. If I can see the open window for the bluebottle, maybe God can see the tomorrows for me and Mum. That idea brings me comfort. Well, it did, until I left the room and returned a few hours later to see a dead bluebottle on the windowsill. Then to show you where my mind is right now, I started crying...Then I got mad at God because in my head the death of that bluebottle meant Mum and I might never find our way out of this mess. What good is it being so far back you can see everything and yet not do anything to help?Then I realized this: I had tried to help the bluebottle, but it wouldn't let me. And then I felt sorry for God because i understood how it must be frustrating for him. He offers people a helping hand, but it often gets pushed away. People always want to help themselves first.”