Every time I post something, I know that I am going to be slammed with insults over my writing first before I’m ever complimented for a job well done.
I admire how much you love your son. I can see how much you care for him. I want you to know that I think he’s very lucky to have you.
I never realized how messed up this bedroom was. Specs of dust covering the black TV stand lay in a thick layer on the second tier, which in the past three years, I’ve never even touched.
The we’ve been friends since high school friend. They loved you when you were awkwardly blossoming from the acne riddled freshman who carried her entire locker to every class because she was scared of not being able to get a book for biology lab.
#SundayFunday drinking my #saltedcaramelmocha!
Congratulations. This is a good thing.
My mother always told me growing up that it doesn’t matter how many friends you have, but the qualities of one. She said if you’re lucky to have just one friend, consider yourself lucky. And I do; I definitely do.
Because I’m not a mom, I feel like I can imagine what it would be like if I were to be one.
“It’s just that I miss him, all the time now.”
I view turning 25 the same way I did turning 21: full of life changes and exciting moments.