upon others reflections

I've had a lot of good friends... most of them I still keep in my heart even if I haven't seen them in years. We still speak, and they still know me. Three of my friends have said to me, "You are my phoenix." Now, to be called this, is rather fitting. I am constantly rebuilding myself from my mistakes or failures. At the same time, I am not vain enough to believe I can be compared to this mythical beauty. These three friends do not know one another... they have all been in different moments in my life, different periods of repairing. They've said how they admire my independence and ability to take my happiness into my own hands. They say so many wonderful things.

Another friend wrote this to me recently upon my compliments to his writing (and I think you'll see his words are well placed and the ideas are executed perfectly):

"I think there's always been a distinction between you and I as writing goes. You do have a gift for poetry and prose. It's understandable that you might feel humbled enough to hesitate considering yourself a poet. Still, if you aren't, there never was one. I'm a bit more of a novelist for sure. I rankled at the rules imposed on how I could express myself creatively in writing when I was in school, especially in poetry. I tell stories, yet you...you bare your soul (forgive the term) like a woman stripped, standing unashamed of her naked body, allowing those who see to decide for themselves whether to approve or not. There's a clear difference in the amount of self put into writing and I admire it about you."

Coming from him, that is a billion dollar compliment. Priceless, even.

So, my friends and other people in my life have seen my worth and dare to measure it.

My point? Why the fuck can't I see it?