On how I learned God is merciful.

I spent the week away from my family starting on a Sunday and ending on a Saturday. I didn't plan anything really. I only wanted to go and see my best and drink tea and turn twenty-two and make galettes and read Beatrix Potter. Instead I ended up barefoot on a sidewalk, holding hands with a sobbing K as she watched her husband kick doors down to wake people up, and fire ate away at everything they had.
Not but thirty minutes after I arrived, I watched with my best friend as we thought she was losing everything.

"Just Do Something."

Dear Fleur.
I thought I had it all figured out. You know? Move to Bend and get my own closet and live with Miriam and learn French and go to school and eat good food.
But.
There is always but.
Now I don't know if that's going to happen.
I really want it to happen. I adore Miriam. I like her. And just the thought of being together and working and driving and being grown-ups makes me feel really good inside. Like it's right. Like I should do it.
But.
I don't know if it's going to happen.
And.
There is a back-up plan now.
It's crazy. Even crazier than just going to Bend. Even crazier than Ria moving 3 hours away. And I can't wrap my mind around it.
It has Kirsten and sewing and waitressing and a girl I don't know and there's that one guy who is pretty much Marcus's twin that just made me want to stay forever for some reason.
I like it here.
I'm happy here.
I would have a closet here.

I go home in 2 days.

I miss my family.
Love Bella.