Twenty-three. Part-time Student. Employed. Designer. Painter. Artist. Crafter. Pierced. Tattooed. Beloved Child of God.

There was that one night. I called you. I was upset. We talked for awhile. You told me you would call me back in the morning. I didn’t believe you. As stupid as it sounds now, I told you if you didn’t call me in the morning, I’d never speak to you again.

You called. You cared about me. I was happy.

Now, I wish you NEVER called me that morning.