I believe the people we are today is made up of everyone we've met and everything we've been through..
So it makes sense if we lose parts of ourselves when we lose people,

It's okay if I'm contradicted, insecure, or have anger issues because I lost the people who made me this way..
They were the Pablo Picasso to my painting.
I am a painting with weird colors and unfinished lines and circles..
And I am upset at times because the good people couldn't draw more pretty parts on my painting,
And the bad ones couldn't stay long enough to fix the dark ugly parts.