Falling
Fall
In September, my heart took a deep dive into the depression ocean of life that is 2025. As much as I tried to use that old Inie habit of “just be happy; no one likes a sad person,” my almost-50-year-old body just wouldn’t do it.
They whispered, “you’re too old to pretend anymore, and you’re way too old to care about what people think—we aren’t going to …
