You are writing the story of your only life every single minute of every day.
Our lives disappear, even as we live them.
In fiction, you can be as true as you want. Real life is a different story.
We build our lives in moments, and even the ones we can't remember become the story of who we are.
Maybe the past is supposed to fade-and that's actually a kindness of human memory.
We are only as great as our struggles. We only become who we are in the face of them.