own ur shit

“I wonder who I am in other books- Am I a hero of the chapter? The Villian of the page? or just a minor character used to set the stage? Am I the goodbye you wished never came true? -who am I to you? Did I give some great advice? did I help a dream come true? or am I the reason you fight night and day through? am I a burden on the pages? someone you felt sorry for? am I the character who keeps making mistakes? Am I a sentence or a page do I get mentioned at all? to how many people am I a villian to how many do I stand tall?”

“Joy does not simply happen to us. We have to choose joy and keep choosing it every day.”

“Okay. here’s how this goes now. This is where your storyline ends and mine begins. This is the part where your character loses the leading role because I got it together. This is where you stop being the star of the show. God, I don’t know how you managed to have me crying in bathroom stalls in the dark and sobbing into my friends shoulder because - god oh god oh fuck you never loved me god I knew it- but it ends now. There won’t be a drunken phone call like in the movies, there won’t be a text at 3 am asking if you miss me. Because your character is being written out of my fucking story. Do you understand me? It’s not you anymore. You’re not the leading figure. You’re not the happy ending. The only happy ending is mine, and it has me sitting on the top of the world without looking back. You’re the past. You’re the first page, an introduction, a small part of an anecdote as to how I got here and then you’re the paragraph that’s forgotten about. You’re never going be the main character anymore. That spot is reserved for me.”

Things I Need: