Sometimes they get to me, they do. The little worries, doubts and regrets of everyday life. Some days I can wave them off with an amused smirk, on others they pile up on my heart and I feel it’s getting a little bit heavy now, actually.
Everyone struggles with something.
The art of it, I guess, is to check again each morning if it’s one of those days when I can shrug it off again.
If not, cuddling.
Solitude.
Wistful Rufus Wainwright singalongs.
Who’s afraid of the little sorrows of everyday life?
Something to Write Home About 
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