“Come,” the face said. “Let me help you break free of this average life. Let me help you find your joy by throwing away half your stuff.”
I never imagined how amazing having an older child would be. I’m in the sweet spot. Maturity and innocence wrapped into one. And I am loving it.
My hair became impossibly thick. I started getting teased in grade school as the adorable curls morphed into some curls, some shag carpeting.
Your name is Emily. You are loved. Fiercely. You complete our family, and it is hard to imagine being without you. But you don’t exist. You never did. And you never will.
I did nothing today. I had plans. I had responsibilities. I have articles to write, and things to clean. I have lists and chores and things to get to. But I did none of them.