Just a lady in her late 20s, writing about anything she can think of.
Closure Happens in Funny Ways
He waltzed right past me. I felt my heart sink to the bottom of my chest. Of course he didn't see me. He probably wouldn't have recognized me if he had. My hair was completely different and I actually had makeup on for a change. Still, he may not have seen me, but I saw him, the man who destroyed my life, move to the center of the bar as if he had done nothing wrong.
How I Loved My Depression
It was a comfortable retreat: the familiar sadness, the open arms of melancholia that was constantly there for me. I knew I could always turn to It. I knew that no matter what, I always had It. It. The dark entity that embraced me whenever I needed It.