I got so busy that I just didn’t have time to focus on the parts of my life that broke my heart anymore.
Breaking someone else’s heart. To a certain extent, it’s an inevitability. One that will haunt you, but one that will also humble you.
I’m done apologizing for choosing to distance myself from people who exhaust me.
Nothing is more heartbreaking than realizing you’re existing in a life that does absolutely nothing for you.
Would younger me be proud of current me?
Absolutely, positively, never.
Everyone cries while on a bus. You’re fine.
Likening anxiety to something as normal as waiting for a text message stigmatizes the very abnormal things anxiety actually does.
There’s potential for a story in every stranger, but you’re in control of the narrative just as much as they are.
Making it literally anywhere on time when you are a chronically late human being.