Life is something that I’ve always taken for granted. I never really think about what sacrifices were made for me to be here. I mean I constantly thank the people that have kept me here but I never really thank the source. Thinking about it I’m glad I’m me.
My wide eyed, curly haired, crooked smile, tiny boned, terribly short self. I have people who love me constantly surrounding me. But I always seem to look for a way out. A way to believe maybe they don’t care. I don’t like being me around them. But that’s what made them love me isn’t it?