A Laugh like Butterflies

So there’s this bridge, yeah? The Swinging Bridge [of death] strung like a tightrope over some pretty chill looking rapids and by chill I mean frigid not cool. My boyfriend’s running back and forth across it like a Circus Act and I’m just kind of lingering at one end, swiping the toe of my boot …

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Things like love.

My mother has always said that I’m a runner. When the going gets tough, I get going. She says I’ve done it ever since I was a little girl. And I have to say, I do remember a smaller version of myself, backpack fully loaded, heading out the door. Proclaiming to any who was listening …

Continue reading Things like love.