Yesterday was hard. I almost gave up. I hung on.
Why does that truth feel so dangerous to reveal? Shouldn’t we know that about each other? That some days are hard? How can we step into the world, knowing that we have uttered those words?
Yesterday was hard. I almost gave up. I hung on.
Why does that truth feel so dangerous to reveal? Shouldn’t we know that about each other? That some days are hard? How can we step into the world, knowing that we have uttered those words?