Some Comments

I'm really not a good friend sometimes.


I've had 19 years of "me" time. It's getting old.


I still love swans and my teddy bear, Anthony. I hope I never grow out of it.


Sometimes, I wish I never I knew what love felt like, so the absence of it wouldn't hurt so much.


So much pretending, and lies, and fear.  Tell me why we live like this.


Someone I cared about, called me ugly and fat, and disapproved of me. I wish I didn't care about their opinion. I wish I didn't have to cry about it.


I'm worth loving. I have value. And I wont tolerate that anymore. I promise.