the thing i almost didn't say, the dangerous honest version, is that sometimes i look at the photo on my desk from my worst day and wonder if i should have just stayed there, it would've saved everyone a lot of trouble, including myself, but then i remember i'd miss my single shot espresso and that's just not an option. There were so many times the 'easy way out' felt like a whisper, a genuine temptation, especially when trying to climb out felt like a betrayal of the person I used to be, or a burden on the people around me. It's wild to look back now and see how much the little things I wanted — a specific kind of sunshine, a certain song, the way my coffee tastes now — were the anchors that kept me from letting go entirely, even when I didn't know I was looking for them.