Younger.

          When I was younger, Tumblr was my favorite website.

          I could spend hours getting lost in the poetry, the art, and the feeling of longing that I couldn’t find anywhere else. I could build a home in fallen leaves, one that would be there no matter what the weather outside was like. I could tuck myself away in endless October and rainy days, wedged in between the pages of an old book where time was an idea and not finite.

          I miss the person I was then. When I was younger.

          I miss how peaceful it was then.

          When I would proudly proclaim that someday I would be an author. My mother would tell people that too. Your child is going to be a doctor? Well, my daughter is an author.

          She’s been gone for a year and three months… and now I have no one to stand proudly and say that I am an author. I don’t even say it anymore. When people ask me what I do for a living, I’ll tell you I’m a bartender. I’ll tell you that I work in a gambling café. But seldom will I speak the words I am an author.

-Sky