I am part of a rich American family, in a rich American suburb, full of rich American people.
Life is hell.
Every morning, me and the rest of the Wives get up at 5:00am sharp. Fifteen minutes of jogging around the neighborhood, five minutes in the shower (set to cold), twenty minutes for hair and makeup, and then five to get dressed. If we’ve managed that in time, meaning no later than 5:45am, we might be allowed solid food with our coffee.
- People having crushes on me.
- Being someone’s last and first though through the day.
- People smiling cause I message them.
- People being in love with me.
- People wanting to be with me forever.
- People canceling plans to be with me.
- People talking to their friends about how much they like me.
- People getting excited to see me again.
- People fangirling over me.
- People thinking about kissing/hugging/cuddling me.
- People smiling/blushing when they think about me.
- People wishing I was by their side.
Sometimes shit happens and you forget how lucky you are. But sometimes there are sparks of light, like people and silly polaroids and bad karaoke and junk food and dumb jokes and ugly snapchat filters and you remember how many things there are to be grateful for. Last night I turned a year older and nothing changed; it was just me. The same me, but a year older. And I survived another year as nothing but me. And that’s pretty cool. // Last night was day one of the most exhausting, beautiful, stressful, memorable, and fun weekend of my life and I couldn’t be more grateful.