Chosen Family

I yearned for a squad as a boy.

I never fit into a clique or group.

A ghostly presence.

A social floater.

I was there but not there.

Left to wonder who my people are.

The ones who stay at my campfire after it goes out, deprived of fuel.

The ones who see beyond the performative, masked version of me.

The ones who bring me a light when I only see darkness.

The ones who evolve with me as I evolve myself.

The ones who choose me as I choose them.

I met my people, one at a time.

I brought my people together, one group hangout and road trip at a time.

A village began construction.

Connections and bonds formed within our group.

A small spark transformed into a fire, nurtured by the friendships between us.

It is the fire we return to.

To banter. To share joy and laugh. To exchange stories. To make memories. To cry. To sit with difficult moments. To be human.

It is fire that continues to burn, keeping our village warm when everything feels cold and dark.

My people are not family by blood, but by choice.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.