I was crying. Speeding down 322 in Lancaster County, and trying to choke back tears because the rational side of my mind was loudly reminding me that it's not safe to cry and drive.
You can't fix me. I wish you could. I wish I could see what you see when you look at me, because then I might be able to accept your words in that deep down place.
YOU ARE THE WORST. OK. I've composed myself. I DO NOT LIKE YOU. I'm sorry. I had another outburst. Really, though, you are just one incredibly unhelpful creature. And you know what? I'm durned sick of you (so sick of you that I spelled "DURN" instead of "DARN"). It's really your fault, Comparison. All I have … Continue reading Dear comparison,
Oh circumstances. You're something else, aren't ya? You are the irritating factor that affects all of life (although FINNEEEE, we can control our reactions and be joyful at all times and such). But quite frankly, I've got a bone to pick with you. Namely, this last OH DEAR GOODNESS LONG MONTH of March. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know God … Continue reading Dear circumstances,