Two times in a week is a record for me.
But I guess I’m somewhere within those frames of mind, that let me see a solid picture. One that I can feel for and write about.
My hands smell like the small rubber gloves I was wearing. I picked up leaves with them. Me and my Mom. At my house.
And when I go back to Canada for the holidays, I’ll be at my parents’ house.
And that’s all different because their house and my house were always the same.
I think I’ve done a lot of growing up in the past year. I think I knew it to. I didn’t try to swat it away or sprint from it.. I accepted it. I find that some people have difficulty with this and I think that’s okay because everyone is different.
I love my life and something very big is going to happen in it; if not next month, then the one after.