Till we meet again

you’re going to love again, find a job again, create art again, do what you love again, feel powerful again. you’re going to be back on track. i don’t know when, but you are going to feel like yourself again, eventually. this isn’t the end. hang in there.

sorry for being so weird it's my first time being alive

I want to go home. I will always want to go home. Even when I am at home I want to go home. But I’m not really thinking of a place, it’s more that feeling of everything finally being over, of seeing the light in the windows of your house on a cold night, of being safe, the relief of leaving a party you’re not enjoying, like when you felt sick at school and they sent you home, or when you got upset at a sleepover and they called your parents. I want my mum to come get me. I want to go home. 

Tumblr still feels like my safe place after so many years