Three Months into Eighteen.

Sometimes people need other people, and that’s okay. Sometimes I forget about you, and them, and how you all love me, and how I love you, and how we love each other. Sometimes I let the little things get to me—sometimes I don’t understand whether the little things are actually big things—and sometimes the little big things hurt so much that I often cry myself to sleep. Sometimes I need someone to come up to me and tell me that I am wonderful. That in a thousand, brilliant ways, I am wonderful. Sometimes I want to tell other people that are genuinely wonderful, that they are wonderful in a thousand brilliant ways. Sometimes we need people to tell us the good things about us, because sometimes—a lot of the time we don’t see them. And its nice to see people who see good things in you, that you don’t really see. Sometimes we always feel as though we are in the wrong, sometimes I –you—we feel insufficient and worthless and not-enough for our own race—and sometimes we feel that we don’t belong to it at all—and sometimes we remember that we haven’t really actually figured ourselves out yet. Sometimes we realize that we have changed and that maybe our past relationships changed maybe we still love our old friendships but things are different now. And sometimes we feel so wrong and insecure and retarded and small, that we need to bend our backs to hide our faces from the world that hurts us so much. Sometimes even, we get hurt, by the people who are actually supposed to heal us. And sometimes we lose those people and we push them away, and it hurts, but freedom has never tasted so sweet, and we become light.

And other times we learn how to make sense out of the matters that feel so small and so big at the same time. We learn how it is okay to feel whatever it is that you are feeling, and to never be ashamed of your own emotions, or of your own self. Or that you don’t have to explain yourself. That the life you lead is your sole property and all your views and strangeness and slightly-colored-out-of-the-lines personality is perfect if it makes you alive.