It seems as though I’m different

than I was. I’ve grown a lot more

over the years. I do not disagree

for I have. There are so many people who’ve made

me who I am.

However, as much as I hate to admit it;

there is someone who knows me better

than most do, and for that, I suppose I am

sad. I am so happy that he’s found happiness

even if it’s not with me, but I can’t help

but feel, jealous, and somewhat betrayed.

Ah, life, my loves. Such a cruel things, as is love.

My sister and I were talking, and yes we understand

that you must fight for what you truly want.—I’ve

done my fighting. I’ve fought for him, but it was

not enough for either of us, I suppose.

I gave up so much.

Je T’-aime