Change is coming, she whispered to the bugs bouncing off her window. You can’t escape it.

But sometimes, things are better to just hear. Some questions better left unasked. Some words better left unsaid. Because saying them doesn’t make you matter any less.

Despite her words about letting go, melancholy washed over her. Because words are easy and often thrown around with trite intentions.

There was something comforting about believing in things that didn’t exist.

In the darkness, she listened to the silence. She wallowed in the beautiful nothing it made.

I ached with loss that I’d never allowed myself to feel. As if I was leaving something important behind. And that something was me.

Something inside her opened strong and raw while she played with those two words. I matter.

Carelessness was once something to be owned. They wore it around their necks as they joined the springtime breeze while ducking in and out of the forest believing their fairy tale.

Couches and tables and beds don’t make a home. Home is where you feel less alone.

Leaving yourself behind is the worst loss a person can know.

Fear of shadows was petty. Real fears lived outside the door.

The word goodbye stuck to her tongue. She wasn’t ready to say it. Because goodbye weighed more when forever hung off the end. And she wasn’t sure about forever. She wasn’t sure about anything. Except...