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I remember when I wanted to disappear because everything hurt all the time. Thoughts buried me. Feelings buried me. Even love buried me.

I think I needed to be saved a little bit as much as I enjoyed doing the saving.  But it is true that "you accept the love you think you deserve" (Perks of Being a Wallflower, Chbosky)

Not only was I lost in life, I truly lost myself; or maybe realizing that I wasn't who I thought I was and didn't want what I thought I wanted.

If my goals and dreams change...who am I?  Why am I here?  Should I have chosen another path?

Another reason to disappear.

Being dark is so much easier than being, well, not so dark.

To miss sadness is an odd emptiness, to feel happiness is even more odd.

How do adjust how you react; to learn; to grow; to perceive.

I relate to sadness because it's comfortable...the melancholy feeling, that's home.

I don't remember feeling that way because I'm better but it's odd all the same.

I no longer feel crazy or that I'm fighting inside myself to be heard, loved or known.

I no longer fear the silence.  I no longer attach to the broken.

I can't mend every broken wing or fix every deflated memory

I am only human, with limits and visible weaknesses.

I love too hard, sing too loud...and try too much

I tell everyone what I think, but I am not a mal adjusted kid.

There's no cure for me and my impulsion.  There's no perfect version to become.

There's only me, as I am...willing the darkness out and welcoming in the sun.

Be a part of my sun.  My dawn of invention, my quest for me-ness I was too afraid to be.

Hello world, is there still room in there for me?

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