Sometimes Love Isn't About Being Smart. Sometimes

A Pink Taffeta Evening Gown. It Looked Like It Had Run Away From A Junior High Prom... The Dress Looked Like A Petunia On Steroids To Me.

He Doesn’t Pretend,” The Punk Pixie Said. He Nodded Toward Doyle. “nice Rings. You Got Anything Else Pierced?” “yes,” Doyle Said. The Boy Smiled, Making The Rings In The Edge Of His Nose And His Bottom Lip Curl Cheerfully With It. “me Too,” He Said.

I’d Have Much Rather Gotten Dragged Into Someone Else’s Fight Than Face What Was Waiting For Me. Other People’s Emotional Pain, No Matter How Painful, Is So Much Less Painful Than Your Own.

I Never Said I Was Consistent.

Can You Truly Love Anyone If You Do Not First Love Yourself? If You Hate Yourself, Can You Love Anyone Else? If You Do Not Accept All Of Who You Are, Can You Accept Anyone Else? Hard Questions. It Remains To Be Seen Whether I Get Any Answers, Hard, Or Otherwise.