✮⋆˙ sometimes i remember when i lived out of a duffel bag and slept on an air mattress in my friend's room and every day was both exciting and scary bc i had nothing but all that and no idea what i was doing or where i was going and things were chaotic ~all the time~

✮⋆˙ then i relax into pure gratitude for the life i live now, i sleep in a bed, my own bed. i have someone patient and understanding and loving and fun and intellectually curious. i have a group of friends who i'm only kind of afraid of sometimes (and that's just regular anxiety, not like, abuse-pattern-awareness anxiety). i have a flexible routine i follow that changes with the seasons. i get to eat food and not freak out about it. the food i eat doesn't have to be stolen from the condiment section at convenience stores. and i reached a place where i finally escaped my family of origin for good.

✮⋆˙ wish i could go back in time and tell duffel bag-air mattress me that we made it 🖤

It hurts to love and not be loved back, especially when that love used to be returned. That is never going to be easy. 

Honestly, I get mad when I think I love someone more than they love me. I feel embarrassed and pathetic for it. I wish I fell out of love before they did because then I wouldn’t be the one feeling this way. 

It’s okay to feel all of that, not that I’m presuming your exact feelings. It’s okay to be hurt, it’s okay to feel upset, but the thing is, it’s also okay to still love them, too.

You care about her. She was important to you. She is still important to you. To admit that she is important and that you love her still is honest and brave. 

It’s going to hurt, but it’s important to try and be gentle with yourself and your feelings. Love is such a tender thing to feel. It makes you vulnerable and it is the bravest thing to be vulnerable.