The Thing About Writing
The time reads 3:53AM and I can hear the sprinklers outside as I’m writing this, and I have a feeling I’m going to hate myself in a few hours when the sun rises.
Josephine Ellen
I miss love letters.
Latest Posts
This Is The Art Of Letting Go
Even after unplugging and draining out most of the toxicity, I’m still left in a rippling puddle of bittersweet sadness, but I suppose that’s just life in general: you break, you heal, you grow.
Your Mental Illness Is Not Your Fault, So Please Let Yourself Get Help
In hindsight, balancing those two separate lives during my battle with mental illness was more draining and painful than any of the actual effects from it. That entire time, I thought I deserved the exhaustion, and that no one would understand, but the truth is that I actually needed all the help I could have gotten.
We Were Never Meant To Be Forever And That’s Why I’ll Never Forget You
It’s fascinating, really when you encounter someone who leaves an imprint on you so deep that even the smallest trigger – a song title, a film, a name, a scent – will engulf you without warning in a tidal wave of emotions.
