My life has always been a mess, a beautiful disaster. A beautiful disaster because it has two sides: one that seems like magic and the other a horrible nightmare. Certainly, no one knows who I really am. The tragedy here is that no one believes I can have issues—depression and suicidal thoughts. I'm not being dramatic. I'm just trying to overcome them. Yes, I'm suffering, but I never wanted my closest people to suffer too. I had ways that have helped me live this long. It took an eternity for me to realize I don't have to take the blame upon myself. And in doing so, I've lost many precious relationships that I shouldn't have.

All I wish today, looking into the eyes of the person I love more than anything in the world, is to have a different past. All I wish is for my life to become an unreal story like the many novels I have read. All I want is to be just an imagination. All I wish is to have never existed. How am I supposed to ruin his life with my shit? Will he be able to bear this? I know the moment I tell him this entire thing, he will look at me differently. He will stop loving me. But it's too late. I lost him many years ago. I was going through a phase I couldn't talk about. How could I be with him without telling him what he deserved to know? I was a fucked-up teenager and now an adult still fucked up by life.

I miss those days when, for a short time, I felt safe and loved under his gentle gaze. He was the kindest. Those memories have always been close to my heart. For many people in this era, love is an illusion, but if you ask me, it is not. But the fact that it has the ability to ruin you is not even debatable. Life is not the same for everyone, and the same goes for love. Some people have all the privileges in the world, and others are here just to suffer at the hands of love and life.

And welcome to my life,

Anna's little fucked-up life.