I felt like I couldn’t breathe, but then I did.
That’s what fighting did—it made people leave.
It wasn’t love, and It was never love, but the scariest part about it, is that I thought that it was.
My heart no longer raced in my chest, but it slowed down to the easiest beat imaginable.
He listened to me when I spoke, and held me while I cried.
He’s lucky that he treats me right, because if he didn’t then he wouldn’t be my husband.
I want to make myself happy by following my dreams, and loving myself.
I deserve someone who actually genuinely wants me, not someone who just says he does.
I want us to be real. I want us to be authentic, with the world, and with each other.
Run outside, pick dandelions, and make wishes.