September 26, 1980
I remember a little girl on her third birthday. Her smile was bright and her dreams were real. She didn’t know a lot of things that she knows now, but she’s still the same little girl. I’m still the same little girl.
I’ve got to see myself in this light so I can start loving myself. I’ve cried and cried lately for the little girl I never got to be. It feels good because I have never really cried about that before. Now the big girl doesn’t feel quite so lost.
I’ve always loved people who don’t love me in return; except me.