They say pressure makes diamonds.  
Fine.  

But here’s my truth:  
My peace was forged under  
every ******* ounce
of what came before.

I hope we’ve learned patience.
Not just how to wait,
but how to be in the waiting.

I hope we’ve stayed close
to the people who see us clearly,
and stopped running from the good
before it has a chance to hold us.

For the love of all things good,
please—
stop
holding
back
just because you’re scared
you won’t get it perfect
on the first try.

You are not a god.
No one expects that of you.

I hope we are finally living,
really living—
because I’m tired
of always feeling
like we’re dying
in the name of survival.

I don’t think I could ever like my face,
not even on its best day.
It’s the only hall in my life
where you never lost your place.

Do you ever feel like your story is being written for you?
Maybe that’s why I write—
because when I look down, at least I know it’s mine.

How did I get so lost,
so far from what was once so bright?

Page after page keeps turning,
but my pen ran out of ink long ago.
Time keeps passing,
but the story unfolding isn’t me.

Maybe my story was never mine.
Maybe it belongs to someone else.
Maybe I’m just a book collecting dust
on a stranger’s shelf.

Maybe that’s why I write—
so that somewhere, buried in those pages,
there is at least one part
that is undeniably mine.

“Make the child fear you. Some people like to say respect is important, but nothing is more respectful than a well-trained child who fears you.”

Ask him how well that turned out.
All cold and alone, while three humans—half of him—walk the earth without a shred of regret
that we will never exchange something as simple as hello again.

I fell in love with a boy at 16,
and here is a list of things he taught me:

1.) People who love you will remember the little things.
2.) The people who look the happiest are probably not even a little happy.
3.) No matter how much you love someone, you can’t make them choose you.
4.) People will repeat the same traumas done to them without even realizing it.
5.) If you just lie there and silently cry, it’s over faster.

P.S. I really hope you’re in therapy,
especially now that I see you have a little girl you call your own.