she is me.

I'm tired of people telling me of who I was or who I could have been. 

I'm tired of the battering head-hounding headaches.

I know you don't know what it feels like to wake up one day not knowing where, what, or who you are...But I do.

This was meant for me to find out who she was; 

The memories, accomplishments, and future expectations. 

I know you may not know her now, but take it from the accounts of friends, family, and mentors.

I hear that people are only what they have experienced.  

Losing those experiences is like wandering a maze without a map. 

Being continually battered with questions about her and about her remembering.

I heard that life is all about remembering the good old times.  So I want to tell you about her who believed that she had it set, only to have her world flipped when it happened…but to do that, I need to tell you about me.   

The ice inside her veins pulls her up just enough to ignore the urge to go back to bed.

Inside the ice lays a message that just wants to be told. Life has an interesting way to reveal its cruel intents that lay dormant while you walk. 

Yet she found the alternate exit; a way to rise above it all and still find joy through the small things. 

The water that lay still and menacing in front of her... 

Telling her that all that she had done was not enough to stand above the things around her.

The dive, splash, and finish assured her that the choices she had made were worth the pain and time; and the friendships were what made, made it all worth while in the end. 

She didn't want to live a life full of worry and doubt. The snap shots in life were what brought her the daily dose of faith to continue on to the next day.

It came down to the last jump in the sunset.

The final snap of the shutter. 

The last crash as your face hits the earth.

Life wasn't made to be an endless trap. Never to release you until the end. 

She didn't notice how she changed as the hours of film continued to pile up.

Yet as the tears of others started to run from the story that was told, 

times had changed as shattered glass was being picked up and put back together. 

As time went on she remembered the stories of the times as she would sit on the ground and

just marvel at the good times that she had been able to experience so far in her life. 

The lost girl in the maze had just found her map. 

Doubt was the only thing that was causing the found to become lost. 

The truth had become clear.

She was me.

So ask yourself...

Are you, you?