If they miss you, they’ll call. If they want you, they’ll say it. If they care, they’ll show it. And if not, they aren’t worth your time.
I am better than I was.
I will be better than I am.
I wish someone would randomly tell me little facts about myself. Not ones that I have already told them but ones they have picked up by themselves because they care enough to notice the little things I do.
Oh my God, what if you wake up some day, and you’re 65, or 75, and you never got your memoir or novel written; or you didn’t go swimming in warm pools and oceans all those years because your thighs were jiggly and you had a nice big comfortable tummy; or you were just so strung out on perfectionism and people-pleasing that you forgot to have a big juicy creative life, of imagination and radical silliness and staring off into space like when you were a kid? It’s going to break your heart. Don’t let this happen.
Anne Lamott (via cytologic)