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I placed my mother's silver compact mirror on the vanity, next to the invitation they hadn't meant to send. The engraving had worn thin, like memories sometimes do, but I could still trace the letters with my fingertip. Some things refuse to fade entirely.

Busque paz em cada amanhecer, nas pequenas bênçãos que a vida oferece. Agradeça pelo que tem, mas proteja sua energia dos que querem seu mal. Confie no seu coração, mas guarde seus sentimentos com sabedoria. A vida é sua para cuidar.

You know, everyone keeps telling me I'm not ready for this, that I should wait, play it safe. But I've spent my whole life waiting for the right moment. Maybe sometimes you just gotta take that leap, even if people think you're crazy.

When I was 12, I broke my arm at gymnastics practice. My dad was supposed to pick me up, but he was at a business dinner. The coach called three times before my stepmom finally showed up, two hours later, complaining about missing her book club.

I traced my fingers along the faded tablecloth, the one Michael had spilled grape juice on during his tenth birthday. Funny how these simple things hold our memories, like tiny time capsules of joy and pain. Sometimes I just sit here, remembering.

Sometimes I find myself lost in thoughts, wondering how to express everything that's building up inside. The words are there, floating in my mind, but putting them together feels like solving a puzzle I can't quite complete.

Just sitting here watching the sunset and thinking about how beautiful life is when you're in it, and how everything seems to make more sense now, you know, because when love is real it just feels like everything falls into place so perfectly.

Sometimes I think about how peopel interact with eachother, and I just cant understand it. Like, its supposed to be natural or something but for me its just confusing. Maybe thats just how im meant to be, alone and watching.