When I loved myself enough, I began leaving whatever wasn’t healthy. This meant people, jobs, my own beliefs and habits - anything that kept me small. My judgement called it disloyal. Now I see it as self-loving.
I’m always soft for you, that’s the problem. You could come knocking on my door five years from now and I would open my arms wider and say ‘come here, it’s been too long, it felt like home with you.’
I am happy. I think I really am. But then I get sad. And sometimes it overwhelms me how sad I can get.
Lately all I know how to do is cry.
What my sidehoes don’t seem to understand
like honestly, sleeping next to someone is the nicest thing. like when you half wake up at 4am and squeeze them or they move in tighter to you. lovely.
I’ll marry a man who knows how I take my tea, coffee, and alcohol
And knows when to make which.
i just hope that one day—preferably when we’re both blind drunk—we can talk about it.
People don’t change. Their priorities do.