tomorrow i'll wake up to another birthday in quarantine. and while it really is just the worst, there are some things i'm grateful for.
i love that my birthday lands a few days before spring and just weeks after my mom's. i love that i sometimes stop in awe at birds flying above me, or at pink and purple sunsets. that a long walk by myself or a 30 minute ep of trash reality tv will usually lift my mood.
i love that i can call my dad at any hour of the day and he'll give me notes on my writing or remind me that, "it'll all work out." and that my sister laughs with me at the odd, magical moments, no one else will ever understand.
i give most people the benefit of the doubt. i'm curious and scatterbrained and tend to trip over things. i write letters and notes to the people i call family to make sure they know i love them.
i'm ambitious and want to change the world— one bittersweet story at a time.
grief hurts. heartache sucks. people are often cruel. but if i can offer anything to you on this day— this awkward, wild, and special day— it's this:
when i meet you at a cafe or bump into you on the street (when the world opens up and we feel safe to smile again from behind our masked facades) i hope you leave our encounter feeling a little bit lighter and a lot more alive.
year two of celebrating a birthday in quarantine sucks. here's to living my best life. messiness, mistakes and all.
life is fucking beautiful. stay safe.
