Amazingly, it has already been four years since I started seeking refuge in writing- the one of the very few things that allow me to step back and detach from life and at the same time delve deeper into it. It would have been utterly nice to celebrate this feat yet I am still at the very same position of sitting here bleeding and wanting nothing but for everything to be okay. Truly, there have been ups and downs, a roller coaster ride of emotions, tragedies, and victories. However, I cannot help feeling as if the ups are merely detours and being on the lowest point has always been the destination. Nonetheless, I still am fortunate for having something to run to where I can be free to be my own self regardless of the misery, frailty, and vulnerability woven into the fabric of my being. I still am fortunate to have this, and to have me. I may be all I have, but maybe I am all I need.