From all of us Scarborough girls, greetings and thanks. This task required two, working together, trusting each other. It required the "us," not the "I." For that is true love, is it not?

It was any outcast's nightmare. If I looked carefully, I suspected I might find it beneath the black paint of the small acrylic by the window.

But I know that I'm not who I was supposed to be. Who I could have been. And I know it's because I was too afraid for too long.

When you first fall in love, it's supposed to be awful. Awful, uncertain, scary, wonderful, confusing, all at once. That's how you know it's real. You have to care deeply. Passionately. That hurts.

There is nothing in this world that I want or need, but you.

Always remember: In the end, the surviver gets to tell the story.

From all of us Scarborough girls, greetings and thanks. This task required two, working together, trusting each other. It required the "us," not the "I." For that is true love, is it not?