The Sound of Silence

Forbidden in Santa's truck, making anything, everything worthy enough, removing the stigma of being uncomfortable with it

Thick and tense in the test room, the air full of numbers, equations, and principles

Neutral, withholding, as blood seeps through a mattress and a girl writhes above, trying to get free

Simon and Garfunkel on my headphones as I grin at the curly brown-haired girl tripping along the sidewalk, hand firmly in her daddy's, the other one holding a book in front of her face

And that's my life, right there, in four lines. Talking, friends, academics, struggling with the past, smiling at my future.

A PostSecret card really resonated with me a few weeks ago. I rewrote it for myself, but the sentiment remains the same:

Despite everything--the rape, the losing of friends, the breakups, the bitterness, the bad things I've done to people, the weight problems, the insecurity, the being away from J--I am so happy with the person I'm becoming.

And I can't fucking wait to see what comes next.