I had a decade like this. An ex-boyfriend’s mother, a fellow teacher at the preschool where I taught, a random co-worker; those are three I remember who made room for me when I had nowhere else to go. One died from a particularly virulent strain of stomach cancer at 24-the lone man of the bunch-the other two I never speak to. Back then, all my endings were ugly. I know today that I was in the throes of an addiction bigger than I was; I never MEANT to do harm. Still, for years I hid in grocery aisles when confronted with my past. A past I don’t now and will never remember. I don’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse. How could I ?

Thank you for unearthing spectres today, Abby Norman . Coffee seems a small price to pay. ❤

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.