Saying Goodbye to Ezri

Ezri would do everything with me. She followed me around the apartment, she waited on me outside of the shower, she watched me leave, and waited for me to come home. She was also a chatterbox. Oftentimes, she would meow at me constantly as if she were trying to have a conversation with me.

We Are Here

Lately I’ve been thinking about the difference between courage and hardness, and my gosh, through my terrible week I’ve discovered that, similar to love and hate, the difference between the two is so much thinner than I had hoped.