I am going to write. I will write poems and when you hurt me I will cry to them. I am going to write short stories and jot down my thoughts and anxieties. I will be awful with money and wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat and panic. I will dream extravagant goals and imagine myself as a great, successful, better person. I will have a panic attack over such minuscule things and irritate the closest people to me. I will experiment with more than I should until my best friend cries in frustration. I will stare at myself in the mirror and wander why it's all so wrong. I will make myself sick. I will worship the ground you walk on with only doubt sitting on my shoulders. I will wear my heart on my sleeve and wait for only a smile to be exchanged. I will never admit how scared I am of not achieving everything I've ever dreamt of. I will never say out loud that I am afraid of sleeping. I will play. I will crave knowledge and resent my bad memory. I will say that it will all be okay in the end because, really, at least I lived in hope.