Writing was like breathing to me. Something that I needed to survive but…
I don’t know at what point I stopped writing at all.
I think I let love get the better of me. Love… love?
It’s gone now anyways. Well not quite. Love knocks again and again.
In different shapes and forms.
What will happen? I don’t know.
but I am here to stay.
After all, what doesn’t kill me only makes me stronger right? right?