Above all else, we choose to stay. We choose to fight the darkness and the sadness, to fight the questions and the lies and the myth of all that’s missing. We choose to stay, because we are stories still going. Because there is still some time for things to turn around, time for surprises and for change. We stay because no one else can play our part.

- Jamie Tworkowski, “We’ll See You Tomorrow.”

(via twloha)


Sometimes your heart needs more time to accept what your mind already knows.
Awesome quotes (via onlinecounsellingcollege)


What if we could embrace our vulnerabilities, insecurities, and doubts, instead of denying that they’re ultimately part of who we are…and acknowledging that they don’t make us any less able to be strong and overcome?


They say to listen to your heart, but somedays I hope it’s lying.


The past does not have to be your prison. You have a voice in your destiny. You have a say in your life. You have a choice in the path you take.
Max Lucado (via onlinecounsellingcollege)

Sometimes when you’re trying to be everyone else’s anchor, you don’t realize you’re actually drowning.

You may not see it today or tomorrow, but you will look back in a few years and be absolutely perplexed and awed by how every little thing added up and brought you somewhere wonderful - or where you always wanted to be. You will be grateful that things didn’t work out the way you once wanted them to.

In order to move on, you must understand why you felt what you did and why you no longer need to feel it.
Mitch Albom, Five People You Meet in Heaven (via praises)

(via thehumbledtherapist)


twloha:

My friend Michael works out of town. Over the past two years, I swear he has worked every single place in the United States except for where he lives. He is typically gone for two weeks at a time, and then he gets to be home for a weekend. Two weeks on the road, one weekend at home. Two weeks on the road, one weekend at home. 

I remember once he came home on a Friday and we were eating cheeseburgers on his front porch, and he told me that the scariest part of his job was that he realized how quickly things change. It’s like when weeds grow in your yard: You don’t see them growing if you sit on the porch and stare at them. Michael said he saw weeds growing all over his hometown, and that was kind of scary. 

We have a tendency to be afraid of the unexpected and the unknown, and change can be both of those things. Change gives you no time to prepare, no announcement of its arrival. Sometimes we initiate change, but sometimes it just shows up. Sometimes change is big, like birth and death big. Sometimes it is simply not seeing someone as much as you used to, and eventually you don’t ever talk and you aren’t really sure why that is. 

It is a hard animal to wrestle with, this change that besets all of us. This strange concept that we all experience at the same time but also walk through alone. 

I was listening to this song when I left Pensacola, the place where I went to school and lived for four years. I had driven to and from that town so many times, and it was a very unsettling feeling driving away without any intention of permanently returning. It was change, and I knew whenever I did come back, I would be greeted by change. But this song reassured me.  

So many of my negative thoughts and feelings spend time in my head as a swirling mist, undefined and impossible to catch or describe. And often times that keeps me from talking to people about them, even those closest to me. I just can’t find words, and I think that is why this song means so much to me. It puts words behind my fears of the future and the unknown. It gives a defined space to that mist. It offers no resolution, but it offers a sense of solidarity that I am not the first person to be here, to be tired of being sad, to be scared of not recognizing my friends. I find hope in the defined space, and I feel comfort in shared experience.