Don’t sweat the small stuff. When you look back on life though, the menial things don’t matter.
I was sipping coffee, comfortably slouched in a massive leather chair of a Starbucks cafe, listening to a damn good podcast rattle away in my tri-colored Bose earbuds, when two girls in their latter teen years sat down at a…
I’m not sure that I’ve been in real love, but I do know that I have run barefoot in the rain four blocks like a pathetic goddamn Nicholas Sparks novel in attempts to hold onto something I never second guessed to call love.
I am more grateful every day for that opportunity. Because for all my tears and for all the anger and the whirlwind of self-loathing that followed, I learned something.
I’m imploring people not to recoil from the idea that women may want to contribute to the world in other ways sans making babies.
Truth is freedom,
lies and deceit are suffocation.
I am here to explain what we want from a break, because like my Kate Spade planner boys are very much black and white.
When you talk about your heartbreak, people are falling in love with you, when you talk about your anxiety, people are finding solace in you, when you talk about your pain, people are finding a remedy for theirs and when you talk about being lost, people are finding themselves.
He’s thinking about asking me about you. I know he is.
I awoke that morning with a message from him, the first word I saw was “Sorry.” I knew what was coming and my heart sunk deep into my chest.