It’s true that we are the sum of our experiences. If I’ve learned anything in the past couple of years, it’s that life’s too short to live the same day twice. I’ve been to extreme highs and lows. I’ve swollen with arrogance and I’ve sunk with depression. Either way, it’s a thrilling feeling just to be alive. I find it hard to be overly bitter when cutting my losses. I’ve got some fond memories of some fantastic people who have all had a hand in sculpting the me I am, and the me I hope to someday be.
This goes out to countless people in specific, but no one in particular: Thank you…for teaching me not to get attached…for seeing the beauty in the unexpected…for learning how to let things go…for wining and dining me…for being a best friend…for holding me the way that you did…for duct tape…for mending me…for bruising me…for the song…for the dance…for picking me up…for the yellow balloon…for the best advice I ever received…for camping in…for the hit…for the journey…for showing me your world.
Fucking up is part of the beauty, because in the end it all works out. I look back and I think “ah. I get it now.” I’m a puzzle that even I can’t solve sometimes, but I know immediately when I like something/someone or not. Takes time to get good. I have had to maintain my strength even when it kills…but you absolutely can’t give up. I’ll always get back up, I’ll never dwell in failure or fear. I am resolved to the eternal and beautiful fight.