Chronicles of the chronically awkward

Is it just me?

People’s journals in movies:

As I ruminated upon the meaning of life this afternoon, Mr. Garner rang the doorbell.

My journal:

Fucking shit fuck

If you love someone, tell them.

Tell them because people’s minds change at the lightning quick snap of a finger.

You don’t know how they feel about you in that moment.

You don’t know how they will feel about you the next minute, hour, or day.

You don’t know who they’ll meet or what will happen to them.

What you do know is how you feel about them.

Tell them so that they don’t have to wonder.

Tell them so that you don’t have to wonder.

If they don’t feel the same, 

Let them go, but

Don’t let go

If I were to go back in time

If I were to go back in time, I would tell my 5-year-old self not to worry about the monsters. I would tell my 7-year-old self not to worry about that math test. I would tell my 12-year-old self not to worry that all the other girls are developing faster. I would tell my 14-year-old-self not to worry about high school. I try to tell my current self not to worry about the past. I’m not listening. I just hope that my future self is more courageous.