He should hold you in his hands like a lost treasure, newly found.
You are not what you are called. You are what you answer to.
You’d be 11 now, about to turn 12.
In the rush of the morning, when we hit snooze 10 times, rush to take our showers, change our outfits 20 times, are stuck in traffic…we don’t take the time to realize the little things.
Listen. Mistakes happen. But you are not one of them.
No matter what anyone tells you, I am here to tell you that it is okay. You are okay. Or at least, you will be.
You are the fixer of broken things. And she is your masterpiece.
You are never going to be perfect. Stop trying. Stop attempting. Stop stressing.
When you have come down to your final days, you’ve made a life that you’re okay with leaving behind.
There is no shame in asking for help.