Last year I fell in love.
To be honest, it took me by surprise. I was just coming out of a relationship and here I was starting a new one. Well maybe not a new one…an old one that I hadn’t really noticed before until I was alone again. I always knew it was what I liked. I knew I was attracted.
But I didn’t want to admit it. I was terrifed to love in public. For everyone to see. Sometimes I still I am.
All my life I’ve always felt so isolated. Like I was stuck in my own little world and no one had the strength to pull me out.
But last year? I was dragged out like a screaming kindergartener on the first day of school. I was forced out of my isolation and forced into the sun.
Writing thrust me into myself. I fell so deeply in love with words that everything didn’t (doesn’t) matter if I didn’t write everyday.
Everything that happens to me is a story to tell. I write because I feel like no one would listen otherwise; my fingers tell stories better than my mouth can.
Here’s to another year. Thank you for listening.
P.S EXCUSE ME! I KNOW YALL ARE SITTING THERE LIKE “THIS BITCH NAME IS YEARHERETHERE AND SHE AINT MOVE YET.”
SHUT UP IM WORKING ON IT…