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Nothing Is Wrong. That's What Makes It So Hard.
My friend was telling me about her trip. The flight, the food, that one afternoon she spent doing absolutely nothing and didn't feel guilty about it once. I was happy for her. I was also somewhere else entirely. When was the last time I did something for just me? I didn't say it out loud. I just filed it away, the way you file away a thought you're not ready to deal with yet. But it didn't leave. It sat there for days, showing up at odd moments — in the shower, in traffic, ri
Erin Wolfe
3 days ago
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