Becoming a fatherless daughter is belonging to a club no one wants to join. I joined last March and have had my fair share of those sneak-attacks grief is so famous for.
❤ I am sorry that you belong, too.
I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, but I know I want it to be spelled right and punctuated correctly. I guess that’s something.
I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, but I know I want it to be spelled right and punctuated correctly. I guess that’s something.
