And I wouldn’t have found my calling.
Don’t worry girl, I got you.
I didn’t have a home growing up. I had a house.
You’re never ready when it inevitably finds you.
My first encounter with the beast that is a hideous first date came at the impressionable age of 16.
Panic, my love. Before I met you I felt panic.
We aren’t the vastly complicated and wildly unique individuals we profess to be.
One little white lie never hurt anyone.
The narrative hasn’t changed, and neither has our drastic need for its non-stop consumption.
You reside inside it, but it’s not yours. You can move it, sometimes awkwardly, and control it, sometimes disastrously, but it isn’t yours.