 My parents didn’t raise me to change my mind. They raised me to follow God and the people who claim to love him more than I do blindly, with no doubts or burning questions taking up space in my mind where the faith it supposed to live inside me. My parents raised me to believe like them.
 Life happens so fast. One second you’re headed to your first day of kindergarten and the next you’re at your big kid job trying to pay the bills. Some people stop dreaming along the way and some people dream too much. Some people find solace in security, others in spontaneity. When did we all get so different from the kids who fought over the same jungle gym? When did we all get too good for each other?
 You’re the friend I needed right now. The friend I need forever. Thinking about the beginning of us and how I can’t remember when we fell in love with each other is the best part to me because it was effortless, it was that easy for me to love you and for you to love me. Love has never been easy for someone like me and I needed someone to show me that it can be, sometimes it should be.
 There comes a time in every girl’s life where they should finally come to terms with the fact that they’re never going to be good enough. Well, they’ll be good enough for someone, but not for everyone and that’s the part that sucks because ever since infancy, girls are taught to be enough for people. To make themselves enough.
 How is she? Do you love her like I love her? Is she everything I told you she would be and so much more, now that I’m gone? Do you think she misses me as much as I miss her? Oh, I know she doesn’t. Don’t even ask. Are you treating her right? You better be treating her right.
 When you’re brown like me, the world looks at you differently. My shade of brown is light, almost pure enough to respect. I am just a hint of spice, just a little bit of flavor for the people who can’t handle some sort of burn, some sort of feeling besides numb.
 The daydreams that run through my head make my brain feel like it’s bleeding, like the life is flowing out of me drop by drop. The tear in my seam is slowly ripping itself open, wider and wider and there doesn’t seem to be any way to stop it. Dreaming of the future is bleeding me dry.
 There’s no more room for heartbreak in this life, in my life. It may not be all the way true, but it feels that way. It feels like my soul is numb to people coming and going because so many people have come and gone. Like passengers on a train you can’t afford a ticket to, all you have to give is a subtle wave before you turn your back. Goodbye sweet human, you never knew me well.
 Most days I wish I weren't reasonably smart or insatiably curious or so willing to learn everything there is to learn. All those things make me absorb information every day of my life in a world where information is right at my literal fingertips. Most days, if not all days, I wish I were oblivious to the plight of our nation and the struggles of the world, but that privilege doesn't belong to me.
 It was one of those national holidays, the kind where none of us had to work. We were all home at the same time doing different things with our lives in different rooms of the house. It was hot outside, but my dad was building a shed to put all his toys in. He always has to work on his day off, the same curse I carry in the long legacy of our family.
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