This is a difficult balance, telling the truth: how much to share, how much to keep, which truths will wound but not ruin, which will cut too deep to heal.

I realize now how much courage it takes to choose the life you want, whatever that might be.

Does loving someone mean you want them to be safe? Or that you want them to be able to choose?

You cannot change your journey if you are unwilling to move at all.

I wonder if I will ever have the strength to hold onto something. Or if I will always be someone who destroys.

It is strange how we hold on to the pieces of the past while we wait for our futures.

Red is the first color of spring. It's the real color of rebirth. Of beginning.