The sisterhood of travelling pants.

They are my light in life. The most important two of my spider legs. A lifeline. A way to go. A you can do it you got this. A hug. A mug of hot chocolate. And lots of laughter.

They are not family. But they belong in it. And they bicker sometimes. Or drive me up the wall. Because they are not perfect. Nor am I. And their clothes are strewn all over the house. And they come inside my room without knocking. (Which drives me nuts.) But they know me well. Bloody well. And so do I.
They love me. ME. As in just ME, Regardless. After it all. In spite of who I am.  And they cheer me on my way up, my endeavours. They are my support system.
And thats why I call them sisters… Because I’d kill them most days but I’d kill for them every single day.
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