A lot has happened since I last looked at the girl in the reflection, and I mean really look. Look into her blue green movie screen eyes and scorn that sarcastic smirk and wonder why she lies so much.
Strangely enough, on some days I am beautifully broken glass, and I am able to accept that. But some days I am still fifteen, and I still wish more than anything I never have to feel that way again.
Yet, those days that I'm fifteen sometimes mean so much more than the days I'm average, the days I'm nobody special. The days I am broken lead to make the days I am elated to be even brighter, like sunlight. They make my cheerful days ones of pure sunshine.
I have finally solidified friends who accept the darkness and the light, and love me regardless. They have been welcomed into Wonderland and to not turn nor run. But Wonderland is another place in another time that should not be spoken of here.
So I digress.
Her story is still the most foreign yet familiar ting to me, for I still pretend it didn't happen yet know so fully that it is my life. New people have joined the ranks of those fallen from me, and many have also joined themselves to my sides. Some days are perfect, some days are hell, but i would have it no other way.
I am beautifully broken glass and the stars in my life, those I show affection for and who return that love, accept and possibly even love me for it.