“Sometimes, I suppose I am happy. Like when I am with my friends, throwing my head back and covering my mouth as I shake with laughter at a joke someone just made. But then day turns to night and my carefree grin turns into an unexplainable sadness, etched on my face like a tattoo. And I lay in bed, thinking about all the things I wish I could say- all the things I'm too afraid to admit, even with only pen and paper and mind. It's night like these when I realize I am many things. I am happy and sad, outgoing and shy, rambunctious and quiet. But mostly, I am just empty.”
