When did I become the person I am today? Was it a result of self-preservation? Or was I always me. Did I build these walls? or was I born surrounded by bricks? Have I always masked my emotions? Or was I replaced by this mask?
I feel...I cry...I long for touch and tenderness...so why am I incapable?
I wish to comfort...but I am broken. I am sorry there's just nothing here. But yet I am an optimist? Naive and living in a fairytale where anything is possible?! and why not! why can't dreams come true? If I work hard enough and believe enough?! Why do we have to be destined to make our parents' mistakes?! Can't I want more!! Shouldn't I demand it?!
I feel as though I am at a crossroads...and I'm terrified of making the wrong turn. I know I'm the only one who can navigate my life...but if I accuse a quitter and then give up myself, am I not a quitter too?