When I hit the pavement, I feel like I’m flying. It’s the one time of the day that I feel the most like myself.
If these walls could talk what would they say?
I’ve never been a very confident person. Not as a child or a teenager. And now as a […]
So, I am curious: when does one become a “slut”?
For me, it’s kind of like exercise. Yes, it will hurt. Possibly a little, but probably a lot. There are going to be times when I want to quit, when it doesn’t feel like it’s worth it. But at the end of the day, I’ll come out not only stronger but happier too.
I love him and everything is great. I feel safe like everything I have ever worried about no longer matters and every fear I have in life can never touch me. But I don’t want to marry him.
I couldn’t believe how healing the entire process was: the writing itself, the discussions prior to publishing, and then the conversations it allowed me to have after it was published. It felt like scrubbing myself clean after years of feeling a mix of blame and shame and disgust and numbness.
I don’t think the sunset cares if you think it’s pretty or not.
“I wouldn’t define myself as an alcoholic, despite the doctors scare tactics. But I believe that because my problem doesn’t fit into the definition of alcoholic, it’s almost as though I’ve given myself permission to stay immersed in this problem I have.”
“I guess I come back to you in my mind when I do feel “crazy.” Crazy for being nostalgic over a bad friend, for me being a bad friend, and for our messed up friendship.”