It was always small things. They were the ones that made all the difference,
she was laughing. It was an authentic, deeply rooted laugh that carried with it a cocktail of emotions.
“This shouldn’t feel like this. This, of all things, should be beautiful.
Write what disturbs you, what you fear, what you have not been willing to speak about.
It was an experience that she doted on because it defined her, her world-her reality. Unfortunately, the world constantly reminded her of the toxic truth that was the actual reality.
her breath and that of the girl filled each other, they took in each others essence, each others pain, joy and the weight of their dreams consumed them. She intoxicated her with a depth they had both craved in secret..they were one.
All that was there was passion, pleasure, and intensity.
I’m not thinking;I’m feeling”
I made a vow to myself that every year in June I have to write at least one personal story. Why June? June is the National Scoliosis awareness month in the USA but I have been observing it regardless and I think it is something that can be global. This cause is personal to…