It’s not the same. It isn’t real.
It’s not the same. It isn’t real.
I don’t let them turn me into the same people who hurt me. I never will.
People like that love company.
Sometimes my posts betray me. I snitch on myself, as the kids say.
Without them, I would wallow in my own mind during times when my own mind is the most dangerous place to wallow in.
What came next could have destroyed me, if I let it.
Your kid is watching. You can’t scream. You can’t yell. You can’t say all the bad things you’re dying to say.
I never know what fatherhood surprises are lurking around the corner.
Some moments she’s my little princess. Other moments she’s the evil queen.
I know that every cent spent is a minute earned burned, but she doesn’t.
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