Sam dropped me off. When she was too far away to see me, I started to cry again. Because she was my friend again. And that was enough for me.

I used to listen to it all the time when I was little and thinking about grown-up things. I would go to my bedroom window and stare at my reflection in the glass and the trees behind it and just listen to the song for hours. I decided then that when I met someone I thought was as beautiful as the song, I should give it to that person. And I didn’t mean beautiful on the outside. I meant beautiful in all ways.

The inside jokes weren't jokes anymore. they had become stories

My sister was the one who told me where babies come from. My sister was also the one who laughed when I immediately asked her where babies go to.

I know that things get worse before they get better because that’s what my psychiatrist says, but this is a worse that feels too big.

So, I guess we are who we are for alot of reasons. And maybe we'll never know most of them. But even if we don't have the power to choose where we come from, we can still choose where we go from there. We can still do things. And we can try to feel okay about them.

I wanted to laugh. Or maybe get mad. Or maybe shrug at how strange everyone was, especially me.