i think freckles, stretch marks, tattoos, bruises, birthmarks and scars are probably the coolest thing, you started with almost a blank canvas and look at u now, all this evidence that you’ve lived and the sun has shone on you and you’ve grown and maybe tripped up a few times and liked an image so much u made it a permanent part of u, beautiful.
so now you’re about to turn twenty and the world hasn’t gotten any bigger for you. you’re untouched, unloved, unprepared. your parents still pay for your gas. your friends all have internships. one of them even got cast to be in a movie. you’ve got all this talent that you don’t know how to share. you just want to fuck someone, anyone, to feel a little less like an island. the man at the McDonald’s drive-thru held both sides of your hand when he handed you your change and you cried the entire way home. skin burns. you’re about to turn twenty and you feel like you’re fifteen. you sleep for fourteen hours and still need a nap. the world is shrinking one empty heartache at a time.
you’re scared you’ll never find anyone to love you, not even well. you’ll settle for anything.
you’re about to turn twenty and they never remind you how young that is. falling in love does not make you grow up, heartbreak does, and there is more than one way to fall apart.
you’re about to turn twenty and it’s okay if you aren’t ready. it’s okay if you aren’t ready. it’s okay.