Mar. 30

3/30/2026 8:27 Correspondence 193

I love my family. 

Does that make me privileged? Does that make me strange? Am I a dime a dozen? 

Why am I so lucky? Why is it a matter of luck? Shouldn't I be the norm? Isn't that the way it should be?   

Why am I the black sheep when surrounded by friends and strangers? When they start to share stories of bad memories, family trauma. I listen well with sympathy, but am voiceless when they ask for my story.

 I have nothing but love and respect and admiration for them. 

Why do I live in a world where that makes me an outcast?

Goodnight, 

Calvin Landreth