“I can’t remember why we stopped writing love letters and started crying drunkenly into the phone.”
More from Trista Mateer
“I have a postcard mouth. All it ever says is: wish you were here.”
“accepting this body did not mean convincing myself that it was beautiful”
“here’s to being your own therapist and still needing a therapist, here’s to the stories…”
“See what time and distance does to us? How it makes us soft and forgetful?”