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I used to HATE having to wear a swimsuit in middle school because I was so flat. Still am 🤣 but could never pretend to hate something I loved

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Also cannot relate. I love the sh!t out of fuzzy socks and sleep in them almost every night, even in the summer. Cold feet queen❄️👑 can’t help it

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Can’t relate. I’ve cried at like every wedding I’ve been to

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Doesn’t everyone? 😜

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“At ten years old he realized that people were born whole, and that the bad things peeled layers from the person you once were, thinning compassion and empathy and the ability to construct a future. At thirteen he knew those layers could sometimes be rebuilt when people loved you. When you loved.”

— All the Colors of the Dark: A Read with Jenna Pick by Chris Whitaker

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Most in Monta Clare spent Sunday mornings in St. Raphael’s, and one time Patch fell into step with them, sat at the very back and did not kneel or sing, just watched the man at the front as he lit candles and touched heads and told them they were failing but failure was expected.

Patch knew right then it was an act, and that death when it came was not light or confession, forgiveness or peace or fire. It was that cold piece of time before you were born, that glance into history books that told you the world went on before and would go on again, no matter who was there to witness it.

He reasoned the truest proof of life was pain, and he knew that the day the black car pulled up out front of his house and the two men with the stripes and military buzz cuts knocked on his door and told his mother that her husband would return on a plane with a hundred other bodies, all too young to even place Vietnam on a map.

— All the Colors of the Dark: A Read with Jenna Pick by Chris Whitaker

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