So if you’re sitting in an “almost” right now — whether it’s a person, a job, a version of yourself you never became — let this be your permission slip to close the door.
Not the cute kind — the almost-missed-the-train, almost-laughed-too-hard kind. No. The heavy kind. The kind that sits on your chest at 2 AM while you scroll past their Spotify activity. The almost that doesn't kill you — it just leaves you half-alive, preserved in the amber of what could’ve been. dasha_ashton
No one forced you to wait. No one told you to shrink. You just got tired. Tired of being too much for people who are consistently too little. Tired of translating your own heart into a language they never bothered to learn. So if you’re sitting in an “almost” right
I think that’s the part we don't talk about enough. The heavy kind