An open letter to the 15 year old me:

Hello little one.
Here we are at 1:30 am, as is only proper with us. You haven’t figured this out yet, but our brain kicks in at around 10pm sometimes, and when you are left feeling as though you are flying apart, there are only a few things which are going to calm you down enough to sleep. Writing it out is one of those things, but you won’t always be able to find the words, or be willing to commit them to paper, for fear of how stupid they’ll look in black on white. That’s ok. Continue reading

Mrow?

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