I hear a car engine start outside my window. It’s a toyota tundra, the same car my dad drives. The sound reminds me of mornings at home, when i would watch him leave for work and listen for his car backing out of the driveway. The sound is so familiar to my memory that for a moment, I am back home where i could call “mom” and have her come to ask me what I need. I miss that.
Often misconstrued, authenticity is not about being an open book, revealing every detail of yourself without rhyme or reason. It is simply the act of openly and courageously seeing what needs to be seen, saying what needs to be said, doing what needs to be done, and becoming that which you are intent on being.
—Scott Edmund Miller (via creatingaquietmind)
How weird it is to think I used to not know of your existence. I somehow lived my life without ever knowing you were a person. Once we met though, god I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since. It’s hard to imagine I used to be able to live my life without you consuming my head with thoughts.