I’m heartbroken, and I’m lost, I’m confused. I spend my days trying to convince myself I’m not crazy, and I fail almost every time. I force myself to be social, to have friends, and I want somebody to care, but I’m so in conflict with myself because I would much rather be alone. I would much rather sit at home and read a book, and lead a quiet life but then there is so much to see and so much to say, and so much to do, and I’m scared. I’m frightened because I don’t know how far I’ll go, and I don’t know how far I’m willing to go, I don’t know how far I can go. I thought I was a good writer but I’m not even that anymore. I’m not beautiful. I’m not smart. I know the world, but what achievement is that? I don’t want you to fight for me - I want you there, but I don’t want you to fight for me. I deserve more. I deserve more. Most days I’m just here. I’m trying. I’m fighting. I’m unsure, and broken. I’m the silhouette of the person I want to be, and I’m fighting to make myself believe I deserve better, I deserve lots, I am a good person, I am worthy of love, I am not crazy, I am not a disappointment. I am okay. I am okay. I am okay, right?