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I don't know how to write anymore. Maybe it's the mundane of adulthood or maybe it's the tragic nostalgia for my teenage years, but I wish I could still write.
Beautiful fantasies, tragic love, heart-racing drama- yet I just can't find those words anymore...
The days blend together and suddenly it's been YEARS. Where did the time go? There was no slow creep of age as I got here- it was a snap- I blinked... my dad always said never blink.Β
He was more right than I would have ever believed.
Now, here I am. 27, a homemaker, a mom, a step-mom.
I've made it. It doesn't feel long since I was just some crazy kid who wouldn't make it past 21..
I'm here, I might be boring but...Β
I'm happy.
Maybe I can polish up the words, even if no one sees them.
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