She is not “my girl.”
She belongs to herself, and to all of the world. And I am blessed, for with all her freedom, she still comes back to me, moment-to-moment, day-by-day, and night-by-night.
How much more blessed can I be?
do you ever get weirded out by the fact that everyone around you is constantly within their own mind and thinking a million secret thoughts and battling internal struggles just like you and that you’re not the only one who thinks these things and that the people around you aren’t just faces meant to fill up your life but they’re actually really deep people who have a lot more to them than you ever actually even think about