Breaks from friendships you swore you’d never tire from. Nostalgia stalking your every move. Thinking to yourself, “Am I the person I promised to become”? Answer fiercely because whatever you are is here for the taking and we all know that the world already took too much. So, take the sins and the tears and the aggression and the sadness and fit it into a jar. Break down every molecule until it becomes something that looks like ink. Imprint everything you learned on blank pages. Call it your Bible. Call it your truth. Call it anything you want. The people who need to read it will eat through the words like an anxious fever. They’ll soak it all up and finally understand why you call alittle less. Take the long road home alone. Leave early. Ignore phone calls. Hide away for the comfort you so desperately need and need and need and need. Call the days as your own. It was such a sad story, but a great one. It still is. -AMT ©️