Shelby Sever

Change is ultimately the thing that makes us who we were meant to be all along.

Grief is a great inevitability, and that isn’t a bad thing.

I have a minimal list of skills in this life, but among them is my ability to daydream extensively.

I don’t know what I’m waiting for in your kitchen. Some sort of solution, I guess. I never get it.

Love was an eyebrow scar. It was a booming chuckle (not laugh) that overtook the sanctuary. It was a mess of curly hair, twinkling eyes, and crooked smiles.

I understand that in some stories I play a minor role. I understand in some I am a passing extra, or a main character, and sometimes I am the villain. I’m okay with all of those roles, but what worries me most is that my overall view of myself is inaccurate.

Something I’ve noticed lately—and for a long time, to be honest—is how often we say we’re sorry.

Moving away from home is one of the most exhilarating experiences that I firmly believe everyone should indulge in during their lifetimes.

Why would you cut open a wound you have already healed?

Time doesn’t heal all wounds—accepting your circumstances and processing responsibility for your actions does.

Even though I crave justice and stability and for things to be set right; I already took care of that myself.

You’re missing out on one of the most naturally beautiful people I have ever seen, from the inside out.

I am no stranger to endings.

Eventually, after many long months and many early morning heartaches, you won’t come to our minds at all.

You are responsible for the unplanned effects of your intent. You are responsible for yourself and the consequences your actions might cause.

I would inevitably find my excitement for better, my anticipation that the next relationship would eventually become exciting instead of harrowing.

One day, all of a sudden, there they are. Almost as if they had been waiting for you the entire time.

What you said: “I just wanted to let you know I’m aware that I wasted a real friendship here.”