My head hurts. My heart hurts.

Who am I without a struggle?

From one to the next, I’m laying old longings to rest only to find myself at the mercy of new longings, still learning who I am — to me, to others, still figuring out when to jump and when to walk away, still trying not to make the same mistakes…

still an emotional anarchist,

still daydreaming,

still wistful.

It keeps me young :)

(thanks for asking, darlin :) )

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.