You may be labeled all kinds of things – mentally ill, addicted, depressed, anxious, lazy, a failure. You may be stigmatized.
You don’t belong here.
If spring is hopefulness and winter melancholy, autumn is wild, wondrous longing. Nostalgia wafts. Twilight creeps. Morning fog encroaches.
Because at 2 am, last call was just announced and, these days, goodbyes are a little too reminiscent of death.
You are the Sirius who inspired me to keep fighting while the Slytherins awaited my downfall.
“I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”
It feels like something that could happen in your neighborhood (in your worst nightmares).
This almost makes up for me never getting my Hogwarts letter.
“That no matter what, you can achieve anything you put your mind to. Seventeen years later and I’m still not a Jedi.”
Taurus: Plants in the windowsill, a purse full of spell sachets, browsing the animal shelter thinking, “Is this cat my familiar?”