I’m silly. I still laugh at immature jokes. I watch cartoons and eat cereal on Saturday mornings, even though I’m in my 20s. I panic because I procrastinate but I won’t change my ways. I’m addicted to coffee. I don’t watch what I eat. I think there is nothing better than to curl up under the blankets while raindrops hit the roof. I never get enough sleep. My room is covered in books I’ve read too many times to count. I always paint my toes an obnoxiously bright color. I use three different types of bubble bath so that the bubbles are spilling out of the tub. My pants are too long and sometimes cover my toes. I feel prettiest when I wear makeup, even though I know I shouldn’t. I think wearing shoes on the beach should be a crime. You can’t replace the feeling of sand between your toes. I still sleep with stuffed animals. I cry at the drop of a hat sometimes. I get scared that everyone will leave in the end. Hugs can always make me feel better. Some days, I wake up and hate my body. I wish I could dye my hair a bright color. I think you should always be allowed to eat dessert first. And all I want is for you to love me. That’s all.