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Someone once said life begins with a bang and ends with a whimper. But I think it starts with fire. Burn everything down to build it back up.
“You came,” she says, sighing into my chest. “You called.” I exhale, tension leaving my body as I wrap my arms around her.
We take off for greener pastures when we should keep tending our own.
If things are bad, you ask for help. This is why we have tribes. We lean on them. Even if sometimes asking for help feels like you’re jackknifing into a pit of vipers.”
“Bravery is being scared and doing it anyway,” I say. “You don’t have to feel strong. You’re allowed to not want this, to be fucking pissed off and sad.
