The love we are born into; it is the look in a mother’s eyes as she swaddles her child in blankets weaved of hopes for the future.
“My friends have made the story of my life. In a thousand ways they have turned my limitations into beautiful privileges.”
Every time Facebook brings up one of your Timehop photos, there’s a 96% chance that she’ll be in it.
Take a double shot when you successfully have a nonverbal shit-talking conversation about someone right in front of them.
I hurt her badly, and hurt myself in the process.
The majority of the people I considered my closest friends a few years ago are now barely even acquaintances.
I am not the friend that you choose to go out with to boost your self-esteem. I am not the friend you compare yourself to when you are having a shit day. I am not the friend that you love walking into a room with because all eyes fall on you. I do not wear an invisibility cloak that deems me unworthy of love, that deems me ugly, that deems me not beautiful.
It’s hard because life goes on with or without you.
Privileges become obligations.
Thank you for adding color to my life, even as I paint my own world in dull shades of grey.