I saw the signs. There were so many red flags, but I went for it anyway. And I tried so hard to make it work, and lost myself in the process. I lost all the things that made me, me. I lost all my beliefs and my integrity. My honor, which is so important to me. I remember now…I’m not the girl that wallows, I’m the girl that grew up with parents who didn’t teach her love, or to love herself. I’m the girl that had to learn to love herself from scratch and if someone doesn’t love me that’s their loss. Because I’m fucking great.

To the Rightful Owner of This Place

Welcome to your new home.  The gift I give to you is a voice that can truly spread your words.  I recently found your destination and decided to spend some time making sure it would be ready for you.  The forces holding together the items that were waiting have long since dissipated, so you will have to settle for only slightly less sparse furnishings compared to the void you were in.  Solid ground, light, maybe a table.  I’m sure you’ll like the new color.  You never were one for black.  Now that I think about it, I think a door would be better than a table, eh?  Doors are a versatile concept.  They can lead to places.  No proper void is suitable for living without a door.  By the by, the darkness isn’t why you can’t see yourself.  Think about the first thing that popped into your head when you got there.  You wrote it all down in your introduction.  Ta-Ta for now,

-Teller of Stories