I hate knowing that the people I love are only one relationship away from deciding I’m not that important anymore.

Being between labels sometimes feels like I don’t belong anywhere, or I’m just making something out of nothing because I don’t like what society asks of me. I know it’s ridiculous, but it doesn’t always feel like that.

I feel like I’m just sticking a Band-Aid over a festering wound. Only a matter of time before the whole limb gets amputated.

I’m sure you won’t get shut out. I mean, you’re family. You were around first.”

I shrug. “Yeah, but first doesn’t always mean better.”

back then, I was willing to be anything people told me to be. I didn’t mind that I was dying inside because I didn’t know how to live any other way. But how do you learn to breathe, then opt to be suffocated day in and day out?