Heartbreak is not meant to be a permanent resident.
From anywhere in the house, you can hear the clink of their coffee mugs hitting the granite countertop of the island in our kitchen. I always find comfort in hearing those clinks because it means nobody has plans for most of the morning. I hate waking up to an empty house.
I have ever gotten
to believing in a higher power.
As a traveler, where I’ve been isn’t half as important as where I’m going.
I will love my body, even when the world shakes her head, even when there are a million and one reasons I shouldn’t, even when I’ve grown tired. Because my body is my home—my dwelling place, my residence, my constant in a world that is far too impermanent. And so, I will live here. I will love here. I will grow here. I will break and rebuild here.
Perhaps, this home lies deep within For everything is, but mere illusion
You’re my favorite person to come home to because your touch is comfort, your embrace is peace.
This is your key to a ~*life changing*~ work experience.
I am not the girl you get to hold for a moment, then let go of. The girl whose worth is determined by the eagerness of your hands.
Go have fun with your friends that you haven’t seen since Christmas! But don’t spend a single penny because you don’t have any babysitting set up!