Arrived home from a mini vacation with my good friend. I was thinking a lot about where I would be in 6 months from now, because I honestly don't know. It's exciting to know that I have so many options, but sad that I could be leaving a place that I sincerely think of as home.
I was just sitting on my bed scanning my room and thinking about how every single person/item has a story. I felt a little less anxious knowing that I would just be adding even more memories to fill my new home with--whatever happens is meant to happen, and I'm lucky to have had, and still have, so many options.
These are pictures of favorite parts of my room, I could write a novel about all the stories, and I've only lived a fourth of my life. I must be doing something right!
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