Just the other night I stared blankly at my bedroom wall asking myself how often I’ve done that in the past. How often have I drowned in my uncertainty? How often have I spoke ill of my choices when they didn’t turn out the way I had imagined? Is there ever truly a way of knowing what the future can look like? No matter how far ahead I plan, and as intrinsically as I map out every detail of every decision, there is still no way of knowing where it is I will truly end up. But there’s also a huge chunk of my gut telling me that it will always be okay. No matter what. No matter how often I dread tomorrow in my sleep. No matter how late I stay up at night trying to figure it all out. No matter how crazy I drive my boyfriend about my fears and insecurities, no matter that. It’s all going to be okay, anyway.













