Today I was to watch old movies and cry. Why do Tuesdays always suck?
Baking clay and crocheting make me happy. Can I please just major in crafts?
I want to go apple picking and reminisce like we went all the time.
I think my problem is that I just don’t have any time to breath.
I won’t apologize for my words, but I will for the mass text posts.
Sometimes she tells me I’m strong. I want to scream at her I’m not.
I don’t know what I am doing anymore, but I think that is okay.
Home smells like tomato sauce, and whole milk. Oversized sweatshirts and chilly Sunday nights.
I miss a home I can only remember, but it still smells like him.
…I was making it. The tears came so fast I could not stop.