This Is A Wasteland My Only Retreat.

“stop apologizing for who you are, for your laugh, for “looking crazy,” for the way you eat or sleep. stop being sorry for being yourself.”

I want to know you whether you’re afraid of sharks or spiders death or love. I want to know if it’s grammatical errors that drive you crazy or the people correcting them, if you’re more comfortable shaking sand out of your hair or snow, if you prefer coffee or tea, bars or board game nights. I want to know which of your friends you’ve cried in front of, if you’ve ever laughed chocolate milk out of your nose, or kissed someone you didn’t love. I want to know you, the you beneath the layer of small talk always kept shined and smudgeless.  I’m just hoping one day you’ll invite me in.