My father is my inspiration. He always has been. I've always been afraid to let him down, or be someone he doesn't want me to be. I know, I know, he's my father and he'll love me no matter what. Which is interesting in itself. I've tested both of my parents often throughout the years. I've pushed their boundaries mostly when it came to piercings or tattoos. I'm quite impressed with their patience, as well as their incredible amount of understanding. Not every kid enjoys what I do. Not every kid does what I do. I've tested them both to what I felt to the breaking point. They've remained beyond amazing, and still continue to amaze me.

Back to my father, it's interesting how I've taken him for granted so often throughout my life. I get into my moody pants, and end up being the worst daughter, in my opinion, ever. I say awful things and act a certain way that I really would rather not. This weekend has been a rough one, and I'm so thankful to have my father. I love my friends and their advice, and I do hold it close. But, there's something about your own father's advice to his only daughter that changes you.

I've been stressing out over nothing. Truly, nothing. His words opened me to that, and I've realized I've been handling situations poorly. I always assume people will come to me. I barely take any time to reach out to my friends, or more importantly the guy I'm currently involved with. I don't know why, but I've never been this wrapped up in wondering how someone feels. I suppose I shouldn't worry about it. Things will play out. I shouldn't keep my guard up. I have walls, but those walls need to atleast crumble a bit at the top, slowly but surely. I'm nervous and it's killing me. Ah.

Anyway, love the pops.