Are you ok? How are you? I’m here for you. I can’t imagine what you’re going through. Your dad is in a better place. He's so proud of you. I want to help you. I'm so sorry. These words flood my screen, my days, and my head. I've heard it so many times I've almost gone numb, people expect me to cry all the time, and then I feel guilty for not crying. I get scared people might think if I don’t cry too much, that my dad wasn’t as important to me as he was.

Hey!
Another Eating Disorder Awareness Week in the books. Congratulations! Where’s your podcast? Is your plate overwhelmingly full again? Soccer ended, and you said this was the time
you’d focus on it. Where is it? Still upset about soccer? I already know you are, you don't have to get into it. How’s your internship? Do you know what kind of counselor you want to be? Are you thinking about your next internship? You need another one.

I wish I knew what it used to be like before the overhaul of life via the internet. I wonder if in that lifetime people were happier and more spontaneous, if the lives they lead felt like enough. I can remember a time before the fingertip access we all possess today but, I was only so old that what may have been a better time is unified with my childhood.