Living

"To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all." -Oscar Wilde

Hello, my dear Piece.

I know I've been away for a very long time, but I want you to know that I am happy. I spend time with the people I love; I am doing the things I love doing. And yet, I am coming to a crossroads.

As you very well know, I graduate soon. I am using this opportunity to go on an adventure. I am going to move somewhere I've never been, and get a job working for a company I've never heard of, and live among people who have had experiences I've never had. 

And you know what, Piece? I'm excited for the unknown. For the adventure. In writing this, I am realizing that I've come quite a long ways from where I was two years ago. And it is all thanks to you, my dear friend. You have brought the pieces together and have shown me what it is to have a full life. I hope to never take that for granted. 

Thank you for coming with me on this journey, my dear Piece. Thank you for letting me talk to you when I could not talk to anyone else. Thank you for helping me organize my thoughts. Thank you for helping me find my motivation. Thank you for showing me what it was to be thankful. 

Thank you for getting me to live. 

 

Death and Felines

"Curiouser and curiouser..." -Alice in Wonderland


My dear Piece,


You know the saying, "Curiosity killed the cat." Curiosity is going to kill me. 


Goodnight, dear friend. All my love. 

What Drowning Feels Like

"The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them." -Ernest Hemingway


Oh, my dear Piece. I cannot tell you how glad I am that at least YOU are awake at 10am on a Sunday. I'm having a rough morning after a wonderful night last night. I need someone to talk to. I hope you don't mind. But you don't, do you? You never do. Waiting patiently for me to need you. You are much too good to me. 


But as I said, I'm so glad you're here, Piece. Here's the deal.


I went on a third date with my friend last night. I had a wonderful time. I always have a wonderful time with him, and I'm so glad he likes me. At least, I tell myself he does since he wants to see more of me. He's been very good to me. 


Last night, he held my hand. He told me things I didn't know about him. He told me that the anonymous flower I got for Valentine's Day last year was from him. 


And what did I do, you may ask. I let him hold my hand. I told him stories about me that he'd already heard. And as much as I wanted to tell him how much I like him, I just thanked him for the flower and the wonderful night. 


I am a coward. An absolute coward.


I should have told him how I felt. I should have let him see a bit of myself, instead of continuing to be that silly girl I am when I get scared. I should have given him a kiss goodnight. Something. Anything. And I did nothing.


Piece, I'm so frustrated with myself. I have a good thing here, and I'm wasting it. He has been more than patient with me. He's waited a whole year for me to like him for God's sake! 


Am I so afraid to trust someone else that this is the best I can do? 


But, Piece, we both know the answer to that. Yes. Unfortunately, it is. Perhaps it's because I'm out of my comfort zone. Maybe I'm just slow at all of this because I've never done this before. But we both know that's a lie. I can't trust anyone. 


I'm sure some of it has to do with my past. After so many people have trampled on me, I think this must be my fight or flight mechanism kicking in. And you know how much I hate to fight, Piece. I've been on my own for so long. I've had to take care of myself physically, mentally, emotionally. I haven't really let anyone in. I haven't been able to let myself put much trust in any one person because I'm too busy bracing myself for the inevitable day when they hurt me, and I'm alone again.


Because I'm not as strong as everyone thinks I am. I can't deal with another full blown heartache like the ones I've had before. If I have to carry anything else, if one more terrible thing happens to me, I'm afraid I will break. 


Dearest Piece, I like this boy. I like him a lot. I can't do this to him. It's not fair to him. I don't want to let him go. I won't if I have the option. And right now, I do have that option. I can step it up and show him I'm all for going forward with this. I just need to find the strength to do it.


It's not like people start a relationship based on the premise that eventually they'll break up. It's that time in between that matters. And yes, someone may get hurt in the end. That's life. After all this progress I've made in the past few years, I don't want to stop living now. I have so much left to do. 


What do I do, my Missing Piece? Where do I go from here? Where should I start? Why can't I do this?


What is missing? 


Where are you when I need you?

Actions and Words

"We become just by performing just action, temperate by performing temperate action, brave by performing brave action." -Aristotle


"Words are also actions, and actions are a kind of words." -Ralph Waldo Emerson


Hello, my Missing Piece.


I trust you haven't forgotten me, though it may seem like I've forgotten you. I promise I haven't. I have no suitable excuse for being absent for so long. I could say my mind hasn't been too crazy, but we both know that my mind is never calm. I could say I've been too busy, but you can tell by my browser history that I've had time on my hands. The best I can tell you, dear Piece, is that I've wanted what I write to mean something. To be worth reading. And until today, I can't say I've had a real worthy thing to say for months. 


But that is neither here nor there. Now is today, and I have something to share.


Earlier today, my friend sent me a news article that analyzed the career of a particular politician. The article described at length the man's accomplishments and the main critiques dished out by his opponents, but what really stood out to me was the way the author spoke of the man's leadership. He said this man accomplished his goals quietly. This man did not boast excessively of the accomplishments he attained in the name of his constituency. He did not force others to follow his lead. He convinced them that the choice they were making was the right one, and let the rest of the world judge him at that. 

Now I must say, dear Piece, this politician does defend his actions when the time is appropriate, but he has no need to explain every move he makes. The things he does speak for themselves. 


Piece, this article has struck something in me. I've been doing some thinking tonight. I see myself as someone who cares so deeply about others that I'd rather throw myself under a bus than see someone I care about get hurt. 


But why should I have to tell anyone this, Piece?


And that, is where I found my answer. I shouldn't. I shouldn't have to say a word. The actions I take on a daily basis should make it perfectly clear to anyone I come in contact with that I would do as I say I would. Without speaking, I should be able to communicate that I would do whatever it takes to help a friend. 


This is what I'm going to do, Piece. Starting now, I'm living by the phrase "actions speak louder than words." Let people judge me how they will, but I want to show them what I'm capable of. 


My dear Piece, I am an independent, self-reliant, intelligent, vulnerable, humorous, caring sort of female, and I'm about to prove it. Ready or not, it's time to be me. 


I can only hope through this journey that lies ahead, that I'll find you along the way. Goodnight, dear Piece. Thank you for waiting for me. Thank you for everything.

Big Sister Fail

"A conclusion is the place where you get tired of thinking."


Missing Piece, 


I'm in a funk. I'm going to tell you why. I hope to keep this short because I'm busy, and I'm tired, and I want to crawl in a hole and never come out. I don't suppose that you want to hear about this at all, but I'm going to tell you anyway. Here I go.


While my family was visiting me at college yesterday, my dad informed me that he had a story about my little brother Evan. Evidently, Evan, all of 11 years old, walked into the kitchen (my dad was the only one in the room), and says, "Dad, can I talk to you about something?" Obviously, my dad panics because he thinks something terrible has happened or that he's going to have to have some super awkward talk with an 11-year-old, but Evan continues with some prompting. 


"I'm going to the Homecoming dance." 
"You are? Oh!"
"With Angela."
"Oh! Did she ask you or did you ask her?"
"I asked her."


Now, Piece, this is the part in the story where I went, "AWWWWWWW!!! THAT'S SO FREAKING CUTE! MY LITTLE BROTHER LIKES A GIRL! :D AND HE ASKED HER OUT! :D AND SHE'S NOT EVIL OR FREAKY OR SNOTTY! :D Oh, we sisters raised our little buddy right." 


I was so freaking happy after hearing this story... until someone mentioned that my little brother, who I might add is nine (count them NINE) years younger than me, may very well have his first significant other before I do. 


My little brother's homecoming dance is in six days. I have six days to find a boyfriend or my little brother will have a girlfriend before I've had a boyfriend. I feel like I'm going to vomit.


I'm going to go crawl in my hole now, Piece. Perhaps, you could be so kind as to throw down some bread or a blanket if I haven't crawled out in a couple of days. 


Piece, I have concluded that it's going to take some major change of situation to get me out of the funk I'm in. I can't focus on homework. I don't want to go anywhere. I can't even manage to get out of bed today. This is so unlike me. 


I need something to live for again. Something to throw myself into. Something that can consume me. 


I need to find my missing piece, and I need to find it now. 

Defining Tolerance

"A man's called a traitor or liberator. A rich man's a thief or philanthropist. Is one a crusader or ruthless invader? It's all in which label is able to persist. There are precious few at ease with moral ambiguities, so we act as though they don't exist." -"Wonderful," Wicked


Hello, Piece.


Hope you're having a lovely night wherever you happen to be. I wanted to fill you in on an interesting situation my brain is stuck on. Perhaps, you can shed some light on it for me. Perhaps, just writing it down will make it make sense in my head. Perhaps, I'm just full of shit. Regardless, here's the deal.


I have a roommate. (Well, actually I have three, but for the sake of this story, the one is important to recognize.)


I have a roommate who's dating this guy. (She swears they aren't dating. Just "going on dates" - which is definitely NOT the definition of dating (*insert sarcasm here*) - but for the sake of this story, they're dating.)


This roommate has issues with the guy she's dating because he's Catholic. You see, Piece, this roommate seems to believe that there's no reason to date if there's no chance she will marry the man in question, and since he's Catholic and she'll NEVER become Catholic then their relationship (or lack of relationship since they aren't dating (*SARCASM SARCASM SARCASM*)) isn't worth it. 


Now, yes. The anti-Catholic sentiment this roommate possesses bothers me immensely. I'm Catholic. You can't bash Catholics, and then turn around and say we're best buddies. It doesn't work like that, and I'm working on figuring out a solution. It's been a wrinkle in our relationship, but that's not the point of the story.


One of this roommate's highest priorities is her faith. That's fair. Nothing against that. She goes to a church group on my college campus. She breaks out her Bible in our living room. She goes to church when she's not working Sundays, and she doesn't have to get up too early, and she has a ride. She hates Catholics. (Not that that last bit is really relevant. I'm just beginning to think that it's a staple in any non-Catholic religion, to hate Catholics. Thought I'd throw it in while I was thinking about it.) 


This roommate believes that the only way to heaven is the way she sees it. Believe in Jesus her way. Practice religion her way. Do what her church says to do. Everyone else is doing it wrong. This roommate can only date people who can follow what she dictates as the right path, and as far as I can tell, she feels little need to entertain a discussion in which she may be wrong on the subject. It's sort of a you're-either-with-me-or-against-me sort of mentality.


Alright, Piece. Here's where it gets tricky. 


This roommate obviously knows what she expects out of religion. She has her convictions, regardless of whether I approve of her methods or not. She'll associate herself with people who feel the same as she does. She'll only date a man she'll marry. She'll only marry a man with the same religious beliefs. 


I'm the opposite. I have issues with religion. I question it. There are parts that I don't believe in or agree with. I don't go to church regularly (though I do my best to pray every night). I'll associate myself with anyone who is willing to discuss religion rather than debate it. I feel like I grow from conversations like that. 


And honestly, Piece, I could give a rat's ass what religion my future husband subscribes to. Sure, things could get complicated if he's Jewish or Buddhist or something of the like, but I wouldn't have any problem trying to work something out. (My mother would say otherwise, but she's not the one marrying the man, so it's a moot point.) 


So, here's the question: Does my roommate's conviction to only date a man she'll marry (who thus has the same religious beliefs as her) mean her faith is stronger than mine, that my convictions and actions mean less? Or does it simply mean that I'm a more tolerant person? 


It's a very tricky balance, Piece. One I'm not sure I have a grasp on yet. Hopefully, I can come up with an answer soon. Perhaps, there's no answer to find. Either way, I have a puzzle on my hands. A puzzle I'm dying to solve, and while I wait to see how all the pieces will come together, I'll wait for you, Piece. I'm sure you fit into this jumble somehow. 


I promise to leave space for you. One space for the piece I'm missing. 


Goodnight, my Missing Piece. Sleep well. God bless. 

Semantics and Loopholes

"When the gods wish to punish us they answer our prayers." -Oscar Wilde


Dearest Piece,

Last night, I went to bed and prayed for love to find me in the morning. 

I woke up. 

I did not find a love today, but I found love. 

Touche, God. Touche. But seriously, no more loopholes.


Next time, Piece, I'm getting specific.

Old and Frozen, New and Movin'

"The more things change, the more they stay the same."


Hi, Piece. 


I know it's been a while. I'm sorry I didn't write sooner. It's not like I didn't have time or I had no topic to write about. I have no excuse. Things are just different here. Home is... home. Two days after I moved back here, I wanted to leave again. I'm in a funk. I feel restless. I'm simultaneously free to do as I please and trapped in some endless cycle that makes me feel caged. I can't think straight. This place is a world of its own. Somehow, here, nothing changes. But everything changes.


When I left for college, I knew what I was leaving behind. A nutty albeit wonderful family. Great friends who I'd spent nearly every day of my senior year of high school with. A house that I loved in a town that I cared about. A close-knit community that served as a support system. I chose to let it all go.


I went to school. I found myself a new set of friends who became my family, who I saw more often than I ever could have imagined before I'd lived it. I loved my dorm room (and the fact that it really was my own space), and I came to adore the city I'd moved to. I discovered a new support system in the staff and advisers at my school. 


And all of this made me happy. It took me some time, but I carved out a new life for myself. Like the old one, yes. But very different. I kept the things that I valued. Everything else started fresh. No one knew who I was or where I came from or how nerdy I was in 7th grade. They had no idea I'd never dated or drank. I could be the best version of me because no one would question it. And that's exactly what I tried to do. I could be myself in my purest form, and that was okay. 


I know I've changed since I left almost two years ago. I accept that. I'm proud of that.


Coming back here, though. I feel like I'm regressing. 


My family still lives in the same house. The same things are still expected of me that were expected of me since I was 16 (or younger). Do the dishes. Drop your sister off at the school. Run to the grocery store. Eat your vegetables. Pick up your room. It's the same every day. It's a bit frustrating at times because I'd gotten used to controlling these things myself. Being subservient to my parents again (though still working to assert my independence) has taken some adjusting.


My community hasn't changed. Everyone still has the same jobs. The same people are still in control of the same things. Things are in the same places. It's like the town is frozen. It's predictable. Nothing unexpected happens here.


My friends are... well... all over the place - literally and figuratively. Only four of us from my high school group are home for the summer. Everyone else is out in the world living their life. As for the few friends that are home, they're still the same people I went to high school with, but certain characteristics have been magnified. We're all still great friends, and we hang out every other weekend (-ish). Our problem is, we all know (though one still hasn't fully accepted) that we're going back to college soon. Back to our other lives. Our group here, we have very little future together. Honestly, we're running out of things to talk about. Anything we discuss either has to do with the past or with one individual's future plans. We really have no present or future that involves all of us together. 


I'd love to change that. I'd be ecstatic if I could show my friends my new home. Show them where I've gone and what I've done with myself. Show them the new life I've made. They refuse to see it though.


One friend from home has visited me in the time I've been away. That one friend is the only one who can actually understand what my new life means to me. None of the others can comprehend why I now act the way I do or the reasons I need to return to my other world so badly.


Oh, Piece. I just want to get back to my second home. I want to be happy and independent and free again. I want to go back to being the better me. 


I want to show my old life what it was missing. Now, if only it would open its eyes to what I want it to see. 


A new home. One I made on my own. One I'm proud of. May I give you the tour, Piece? If no one else will see it, can I show you both worlds? May I reconcile them in front of you? Because I need this. I need to connect the dots and look at the whole picture. I need to reevaluate what's happened so far. 


I need someone to witness - whether I succeed or fail - while I live out my first attempt at the rest of my life.

Waking Up

"If every day is an awakening, you will never grow old. You will just keep growing." -Gail Sheehy


My dear Piece,


A couple months ago, I found a post on the internet while Stumbling that really hit me hard. I've been meaning to print it off and hang it up, but in the meantime, I've decided to share it with you. 


The following is titled "The Awakening." It details a time in a person's life when they finally grow enough to discover that life is simply what you make of it. 


Piece, I've been having little moments like the ones in "The Awakening" frequently in the past couple of weeks. I've been alone at home with lots of time to think - not the bad sort of thinking where I'm trapped in my own head, more philosophical sort of stuff - and I'm coming to realize that perhaps I'm not as miserable as I make myself out to be. I'm having such a wonderful life. 


And even on the off-days, Piece, I can make myself feel better by being proactive. If I'm feeling lonely, sitting around waiting for someone to talk to me isn't going to improve the situation, and I'm starting to realize that. If I want something to change, it needs to start with me. 


But you already knew that, didn't you, Piece? Perhaps, you already know how this goes, too...

*      *      *      *

The Awakening


A time comes in your life when you finally get it. When, in the midst of all your fears and insanity, you stop dead in your tracks, and somewhere the voice inside your head cries out, "ENOUGH! Enough fighting and crying and blaming and struggling to hold on." Then, like a child quieting down after a tantrum, you blink back your tears and begin to look at the world through new eyes.

This is your awakening.

You realize it's time to stop hoping and waiting for something to change, or for happiness, safety, and security to magically appear over the next horizon.

You realize that in the real world there aren't always fairytale endings, and that any guarantee of happily ever after must begin with you, and in the process a sense of serenity is born of acceptance.

You awaken to the fact that you are not perfect and that not everyone will always love, appreciate, or approve of who or what you are. And that's OK. They are entitled to their own views and opinions.

You learn the importance of loving and championing yourself, and in the process a sense of new-found confidence is born of self-approval.

You stop complaining and blaming other people for the things they did to you or didn't do for you and you learn that the only thing you can really count on is the unexpected.

You learn that people don't always say what they mean or mean what they say and that not everyone will always be there for you and everything isn't always about you.

So, you learn to stand on your own and to take care of yourself, and in the process a sense of safety and security is born of self-reliance.

You stop judging and pointing fingers and you begin to accept people as they are and to overlook their shortcomings and human frailties, and in the process a sense of peace and contentment is born of forgiveness.

You learn to open up to new worlds and different points of view. You begin reassessing and redefining who you are and what you really stand for.

You learn the difference between wanting and needing and you begin to discard the doctrines and values you've outgrown, or should never have bought into to begin with.

You learn that there is power and glory in creating and contributing, and you stop maneuvering through life merely as a consumer looking for your next fix.

You learn that principles such as honesty and integrity are not the outdated ideals of a bygone era, but the mortar that holds together the foundation upon which you must build a life.

You learn that you don't know everything, it's not your job to save the world, and that you can't teach a pig to sing. You learn the only cross to bear is the one you choose to carry and that martyrs get burned at the stake.

Then, you learn about love. You learn to look at relationships as they really are and not as you would have them be. You learn that alone does not mean lonely.

You stop trying to control people, situations, and outcomes. You learn to distinguish between guilt and responsibility and the importance of setting boundaries and learning to say NO.

You also stop working so hard at putting your feelings aside, smoothing things over, and ignoring your needs.

You learn that your body really is your temple. You begin to care for it and treat it with respect. You begin to eat a balanced diet, drink more water, and take more time to exercise.

You learn that being tired fuels doubt, fear, and uncertainty and so you take more time to rest. And, just as food fuels the body, laughter fuels our soul. So you take more time to laugh and to play.

You learn that, for the most part, you get in life what you deserve, and that much of life truly is a self-fulfilling prophecy.

You learn that anything worth achieving is worth working for and that wishing for something to happen is different than working toward making it happen.

More importantly, you learn that in order to achieve success you need direction, discipline, and perseverance. You learn that no one can do it all alone, and that it's OK to risk asking for help.

You learn the only thing you must truly fear is fear itself. You learn to step right into and through your fears because you know that whatever happens you can handle it. To give in to fear is to give away the right to live life on your own terms.

You learn to fight for your life and not to squander it living under a cloud of impending doom.

You learn that life isn't always fair, you don't always get what you think you deserve, and that sometimes bad things happen to unsuspecting, good people. You learn not to always take it personally.

You learn that nobody's punishing you and everything isn't always somebody's fault. It's just life happening. You learn to admit when you are wrong and to build bridges instead of walls.

You learn that negative feelings such as anger, envy, and resentment must be understood and redirected or they will suffocate the life out of you and poison the universe that surrounds you.

You learn to be thankful and to take comfort in many of the simple things we take for granted, things that millions of people upon the earth can only dream about: a full refrigerator, clean running water, a soft warm bed, a long hot shower.

Then, you begin to take responsibility for yourself by yourself, and you make yourself a promise to never betray yourself and to never ever settle for less than your heart's desire.

You make it a point to keep smiling, to keep trusting, and to stay open to every wonderful possibility.

You hang a wind chime outside your window so you can listen to the wind.

Finally, with courage in your heart, you take a stand, you take a deep breath, and you begin to design the life you want to live as best as you can.

*      *      *      *

So there it is, Piece. "The Awakening." 


This is what I'm aiming for. Perhaps if I can keep these words nearby and if I really strive to put them into action, I can feel as happy as I do right now more often. Because, Piece, this is what I want. To be happy. To be happy and to share that happiness with others. To be happy and to share that happiness with others because making other people happy makes me happier than anything in the world. 


Would you like to share in this happiness, Piece? I can save a slice for you, but take your time. I'm in no rush for you to get here, tonight. 


Tonight, I'm reading the words I needed to read a long time ago. Tonight, I'm content with trying to rouse my spirit in this small moment of clarity before I must sleep. 


Tonight, I'm waking up.

Take the Controls, I'm Going In

"Fear of the unknown translates to fear of losing control. In order to feel safe, we feel we must control every variable - human, environmental, technical. And yet, as life, this just isn't realistic. Controlling everything that's around the corner simply isn't possible." -Ivy Naistadt

Hello, Piece. 

Lovely day we're having today, eh?

It's been an interesting couple weeks on my end. It all started in early May. Jared was down in my room a bit. I was trying to study for finals. I needed to start packing. Everyone was leaving for the summer. I left for the summer. My cousin got married. My family visited my grandmas' graves. I met up with some old friends. I skyped with some newer ones. I'm trying desperately to find a summer job. 

And now? Now, I'm sitting here trying to take in all the stupid things I've done lately. You see, Piece, I have no idea what I've gotten myself in to, and I'm stressing myself out over it. For the first time in a while, I've involved myself in things I can't control, and it makes me uncomfortable. 

Well, Piece. A while back I told you I'd explain my fear of losing control. I suppose now is as good a time as ever to do so. Therefore, without further ado...

As promised.

WHY I WILL NEVER LET MYSELF LOSE CONTROL

I have secrets. Secrets I'm not even comfortable sharing here, Piece. I've got skeletons in my closet that I dare not dig out and show to the public. It was these skeletons that (as far as I know) started it all. 

In high school, I didn't drink. When I learned about these skeletons, I knew I couldn't start, not in the presence of my classmates. Until I knew how I'd react to alcohol, I couldn't run the risk of them finding out my secret. I couldn't let myself get drunk and forget that I was so desperately trying to keep something hidden. 

From there, it's snowballed. I became more introverted. If I couldn't trust anyone to know my big secret, maybe it was wrong to tell them any secrets. What would happen if they changed their mind about me? If they didn't like me anymore, who would they tell? I couldn't let someone have that kind of control over me. 


Then, I got paranoid. Every instance, no matter how small, that could be construed as someone disliking me found a way to get interpreted as such. Now, I start to freak out over not talking to someone for three days. I really flip when I'm ignored for a whole week. If a friend doesn't invite me to dinner or out to a movie, I take it very personally. I have such a low opinion of myself that anything that seems to reinforce this feeling is magnified. And unfortunately, I can't help it. I can't turn it off. 


My mind is playing tricks on me. I know my friends like me. Or at least, I think some of them do. Still, I go to such great lengths in an attempt to please. I hate getting on people's nerves. I hate being uninteresting. I hate when I can't entertain. I hate repeating myself. I hate being ignored. I hate being left out. I hate making a scene. I hate arguing over religion and politics when something real is on the line. 


I'm trying to reverse the damage. I really am. I don't know if its working though. I can't state my opinion on controversial topics because I can't control people's reactions. I chicken out when I try to tell the guy I like how I feel about him because I can't guarantee he likes me back. I avoid forcing myself into social events I wasn't included in, even if I'm invited later, because I don't want to be a burden. But truthfully, it hurts me more than anything when I discover that I'm an afterthought.


I guess, in some respects, my paranoia is a defense mechanism. I've been hurt before. But everyone has. Evidently, it's just harder for me to let go of all that. Harder for me to move on. 


I need to though, Piece. It's imperative that I find a way to beat this. One of these days, someone's going to come along and want to be my friend, and I'm going to miss what's right in front of me, all because I'm too scared to let them in. I can't let that happen. I need a good friend in my life too much right now. I need one best friend. Someone I can tell everything to. Someone who I can trust. Someone I can be there for and who will be there for me in return. Someone who won't overlook me or forget me. Someone who truly enjoys my company. Someone who considers me their best friend, too. 


So, Piece, I'm setting a goal for myself. Screw the unknown. The loss of control can stick it. I hate hiding myself. I'm going to be selfish for a while. I'm going to surround myself with people who care about me. I'm going to build up my self-confidence. And then? Then, I will go out and take on the world. I'll search it up and down until I find someone who makes me feel like I'm amazing. To hell with the people who are bringing me down. They aren't invited for the ride. No need to keep them around anymore. There are enough people to love me here. My phenomenal friends. My kooky family. I'll get through. 


It's time to find who I'm looking for, Piece. Do you know who it will be? Do you know when I will find them? Are my searches for this person and you one and the same? Perhaps I'm closer to you than I think, Piece, and I don't mind at all. This puts me one step closer to finding a place in the world.


This puts me one step closer to you.