But don’t forget who you really are. And I’m not talking about your so-called real name. All names are made up by someone else, even the one your parents gave you. You know who you really are. When you’re alone at night, looking up at the stars, or maybe lying in your bed in total darkness, you know that nameless person inside you. Your muscles will toughen. So will your heart and soul. That’s necessary for survival. But don’t lose touch with that person deep inside you, or else you won’t really have survived at all.
I think I knew it was going to end up like this from the very beginning. I should have just listened to myself instead of everyone else. I let everyone else tell me how cute we are together. How much you “like” me. I let all this make me think there really was hope for us. And now I’m the one that has to deal with it.