When you had to do something, you had to do it. And eventually, if you were lucky, you did it well.

When I was in high school, I was always really envious of those girls who seemed to have everything: the perfect hair, perfect clothes, perfect boyfriend, perfect life. It wasn't until I was older that I realized that nobody's life is perfect, and that those girls probably had a lot of the same problems I did.

All I'd wanted for so long was for someone to explain everything that had happened to me in this same way. To label it neatly on a page: this leads to this leads to this.

Life has a way of disregarding even your best intentions.

I was tired of hanging on, taking the torn pieces to make something whole with them.

Maybe, you just misplaced it, you know? It's been there. But you just haven't been looking in the right spot. Because lost means forever, it's gone. But misplaced... that means it's still around, somewhere. Just not where you thought.

It wasn't about being happy or unhappy. I just didn't want to be me anymore.