mourning my old life

So here I am, arriving at my new life that still has no solid form. I feel like
we’re all stood outside this giant egg together, waiting to see what will hatch.

𝒶 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒾𝒸𝓊𝓁𝒶𝓇 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝑒𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈

I haven’t written in a while. I think in my heart, I must be old-fashioned because I write these posts as if they were letters to an old friend. Maybe that’s who reads them in my head.