I have to admit that I am not good at making friends. It seems too complicated to me. My mother always tells me to be more outgoing and talkative, yet I tend to be quiet among crowds and not willing to talk first. For years, I’ve been waiting and waiting, waiting to be found by my friends. It seems a little ridiculous, isnt it?
Yet, I am lucky. I have friends, valuable friends. They are so kind to reach me when I am alone, when I am not ready to get myself a friend. I feel grateful to them, for their kindness and passion, for the colors they bring into my life. without them, its impossible for me to be as happy as I am now. They prove to me that Ideserve to be loved and to be cared about.
For me, friends are like are warm, warm enough to encourage me to walk out of my little dark shell. They are like gifts. I didnt ask for them, yet they come, with love and honesty. Holding the sunshine and gifts, I started to embrace the lovely and precious world, no more hesitation, no more fear. I can always feel friends standing beside me during the journey of life.