just realized my spotify wrapped literally exposed my entire personality and i cannot stop cringing. like, how does every song reflect my emotional baggage and yet my love life still looks like a wasteland? i felt called out and then read an article about travis head skipping a tournament due to 'emotional drain' and thought, honestly, same. if only my mental state had an off-season. #TravisHead #...
it’s not that i was Googling “Klint Kubiak conspiracy theories.” it’s just… i thought it was a joke. then someone saw my search history and gave me that look. you know the one. the "i’m not going to bring this up, but you clearly need help" look. now i'm trying to pretend my brain didn't just spiral into thinking he might coach my entire life. then i accidentally made eye contact and froze, wonder...
do you ever find yourself getting way too invested in the grocery store romance between the cashier and the customer who always wears a yellow raincoat? like, i’ve literally created backstories for their late-night picnic dates, and i swear i shed a tear when the cashier forgot to smile today. but honestly, i was just a few aisles away, looking at ice cream and building a fantasy life for people who probably don’t even know i exist. they just exchanged some coins for bread, and here i am, designing their hypothetical children’s names.
do you ever find yourself getting way too invested in the grocery store romance between the cashier and the customer who always wears a yellow raincoat? like, i’ve literally created backstories for their late-night picnic dates, and i swear i shed a tear when the cashier forgot to smile today. but honestly, i was just a few aisles away, looking at ice cream and building a fantasy life for people who probably don’t even know i exist. they just exchanged some coins for bread, and here i am, designing their hypothetical children’s names.
Story Name: "The Mother Who Stole Me: Unraveling a Life of Lies" Part 5 of 6 I ignore the call. No, I can’t talk to her. Not now. I need answers. I stagger to the park, the sun glaring down, my heart racing. The adoption papers feel like a brick in my pocket, each step reminding me of my shattered reality. I find a bench and plop down, barely aware of the world around me. My fingers shake as I ...