I wanted so badly to be seen, yet my pride prevented me from obviously asking to be seen. I did not want to be seen by demand, but rather by their choosing.

Starting this day, she was no longer going to be quiet, a wallflower no more.

Could a scar be like the rings of a tree, reopened with each emotional season?

As for me I will follow the path of the pink bunnies.

I had choosen the path of the black sheep rather than that of the unicorns and puppies.