For me, French is so rich and so sacred that learning it is like learning a foreign language.

How many times already had I encountered the painful lesson that although we may wish for the barb to be pulled from our flesh, it leaves a welt that doesn't heal?

And I mean to hear ye groan like that again. And to moan and sob, even though you dinna wish to, for ye canna help it. I mean to make you sigh as though your heart would break, and scream with the wanting, and at last to cry out in my arms, and I shall know that I've served ye well.

You always told me I would be nothing without you. 
Look at me. 
Thriving without you

Written By Alexis Hardgrove

About us

Featured posts

Featured Topics

Quick Links