Arts & Letters

The Art Of Falling

girl falling

Tears rolling down my nose, unable to breathe type of laughter. I’m fine. A little bruised, but she was right. I fell—it didn’t kill me. It’s easy to stand back up and start again, knowing a bout of laughter is the worst I have to look forward to.

The Art Of (Finally) Letting You Go

The desperation. The disillusion. The dismay. None of it was healthy. My head had to accept reality, my heart would have to shatter before it could mend, and I would have to move on from you entirely. The only way that would happen was with a complete detox.