found

I object. I believe I do know who I am. I was blinded by shadows of doubt and sadness but see here, I know who I am. If I am pieces of other people, so be it, I am the best, and carefully hand selected pieces of each person I’ve picked up for nothing in return. I am not on the lookout for myself because I have been here all along, just mistreated, and in the pursuit of happiness and self-love. I may not be perfect, and perhaps that is the end goal, is to believe for yourself you are perfect. But, I am not delusional. In the sense that I know we grow through others, through experiences, through emotions and stimuli like diamonds in the rough, we will be polished someday. But life is simply not a journey if you know who you are. Every breath, every sentence, every touch is a learning curve to a new you. You may not grow through the people you want to, may not see eye to eye with your experiences but that is who you are. An ever evolving work of art that constantly shapes itself to be the best it can in each given circumstance. I am the girl who looks wistfully into paintings of angels and hums along to operas. I’m the girl who sighs hopelessly at sculptor’s hands and dreams of plays in carved out theatres. I’m the girl who walks through the park in winter to watch frost rather than flowers. The girl who grows a jungle in her bedroom because she thinks it makes her a better individual. I am the girl who gave so much to a homeless man I put my own safety at risk. I am the girl who no one wants to date but everyone wants to marry. I am the girl who owns no hearts but has somehow had infinite heart breaks. I’m the girl who can’t say no even to her enemy’s tears. I’m the girl who stitched up the broken and pushed them out into the world with bloodied hands and a busy mind but when I cried out no one came running. And I was okay with that. Because that’s who I am. I am better than one person, I am a thousand sorrows, a million smiles, slivers of every heart that has passed over my hands and been turned into stardust as it skipped back out into the world. This is me, and perhaps I am hesitant to admit this but I’m okay with it. I am delusional, I am scared, I am infinite splinters and grains of people who may have only said a few words to me but this is still me. I am growing, I am evolving and I am okay with that. Because I am who I am, as stupid and infuriating and as messy and as unlovable as a fabricated creature may be. This is me.

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