Not because gothic...
I don't like it any other way.
It’s not my job to be good enough for anyone else. I am good enough for me.
I love my physical health, but I love my mental health even more.
Honesty has become such a critical part of who I am that it's to a fault (I think?).
I’m an idiot. Or was, anyway.
I have been wading through this shit show for a couple years now and I think it’s time for us to talk about it.
I am not afraid to speak my truths anymore.
I guess exposure therapy works.
It’s hard to know someone loathes you with such visceral hatred that it can be physically felt in the tension between text messages.