I've tried to write and rewrite this many times, trying to perfect each and every word and to regain my composure as a writer. Honestly? I don't know how to right now. I don't know how to be all the things that make me. I don't know how to inspire, how to listen, how to awaken. Not anymore, that is.
The craziest thing? I don't have to, not right now. As cliché as it is, I'm going through a serious change and maybe when I come out on the other side, I won't want these things anymore. In three weeks, I turn 18. In three months, I start college. Maybe, I need to shed these things, at least for a little bit. Maybe, I need a bit of exploration to see what I really want. Maybe, I just need a break.
Maybe, just maybe, I'm going to be okay.
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