1/4/26

I think it’s so strange that Nic seems to like the moon as much as I do. There was this period in my life, where I isolated away from all my friends, we barely talked and most days I’d spend in my bed or smoking out on the porch, and every single night I’d look up at the sky and speak to her, the moon. I’d wish for her to change my life, or to give me the strength not to end it, and I’d stare and stare for hours no matter how hot or cold it was outside in nothing but a robe and boots. 

I just find it very strange that the moon keeps coming into my life. I remember when we were getting evicted from that beautiful apartment with the French double doors in my room, and the moon did not show herself to me once during that time.