It has the ability to become a narrator of life; the capability of allowing it to be truly lived instead of just survived.
It stung. I had a deep yearning to be accepted, to feel like I belonged, to know that I was part of a family forever.
so, if something I post is about a high school experience and the next is about when I turned eight, know that I am a work in progress.
Sure enough, the side mirror slammed into the mailbox and immediately fell off it’s hinges. I hit the brakes and felt the rush of panic and remorse come over me.
I fell to the ground in shock. My girlfriends and I stared at each other in horror and helplessness. What were we supposed to do now? How did this happen?
But, now I had a person and a voice connected to those letters that had been written to me so many times before, and now I had a picture of all of us. Together.