He’s lived twelve years. End of explanation.
He’s lived twelve years. End of explanation.
He’s my constant. He’s my rock.
To know Lucas, even a little bit, is to love him.
As the day got closer and closer, my anxiety grew greater and greater.
Being hyper-focused on one major goal is to set yourself up for disappointment.
Don’t compare my human baby to your fur one.
There are also parts of his personality I admire, but might not encourage
I’ve learned that verbal language is overrated
These out-of-sync moments are nothing to hide or be ashamed of.
As soon as he started requesting things, I wanted to give him the world.
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