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@Ydrim

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It's YR.

Lovelvette's
Joined February 2015
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@Ydrim
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3 years
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@Ydrim
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9 months
Can i come to you and stare at you like this?
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@Ydrim
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9 months
𐙚 ╱ Is it the lighting or it's the birthday glow people tend to talk about, but, look at me.
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@Ydrim
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9 months
͏͏͏͏
@cozy_lil_corner
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9 months
My kind of 5th March, to 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳.
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@Ydrim
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9 months
She's 26. ♡
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@Ydrim
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9 months
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@Ydrim
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9 months
Love myself for that.
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@Ydrim
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9 months
I’ve survived heartbreak, late-night existential spirals, 2 AM snacks, making musics I never released, and that one cringey text i should’ve never sent… all to arrive at this birthday.
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@Ydrim
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9 months
Growth is real, though. I cry in better lighting now. I journal. I set boundaries. Sometimes i even drink enough water, and another day just filled myself with cups of coffee, again.
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@Ydrim
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9 months
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@Ydrim
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9 months
Ahh, so this is what it feels like… to remember and long for the different selves we’ve been in all our quiet little eras.
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@Ydrim
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9 months
Out of nowhere today, something nudged me to open my gallery and scroll far until I stumbled on old photos of myself. Can’t say for sure… maybe I had just entered my twenties? Or maybe not yet. But what I do know is I started missing that version of me.
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@Ydrim
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9 months
Switzerland, 2018.
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@Ydrim
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9 months
Always walking hand in hand with time, feet moving forward, mind making plans, heart clinging to memories. I’m not sure which leads first, but they’re all constantly racing, competing to take control. And all I can do… is endure, and make it through.
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@Ydrim
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9 months
Life indeed.
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@Ydrim
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9 months
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@Ydrim
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9 months
Wrapped filming like it’s a love letter I finally had the courage to fold and tuck away. There’s something quiet about endings that don’t scream—they hum. Like soft jazz through an old diner radio, or the final bloom of a flower that never asked to be seen but bloomed anyway.
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@Ydrim
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9 months
Either way, I held it in my hands and smiled like I’d rehearsed this moment in my head a hundred times but still didn’t expect it to feel this warm.
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@Ydrim
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9 months
The air smelled like fake petals and something sweeter. Maybe it was the cake. Maybe it was the kind of joy that doesn’t post itself on loudspeakers.
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