I’m proud to say, that for the first time in the history of my blog, I collected over 1,000 views in one month.

February is an important month in my life. It is the month that I was born in. It is the month that my parents separated and my mother moved my sister and I out of my fathers house. Two years before I was born, it was the month that my great grandmother passed away. On the same day as my birth no less.

February is the month of love. It is the month that the weather is predicted by a giant rodent. It is a month of possibilities.

As I look back on what I’ve done this month I realize- I realize I have done nothing. I have not altered my life in anyway. I have not become a better person, I have not changed my study habits. I have not been nicer to my sister. I have not accepted myself for who I am. I have not. I have not. I have not. But I would like to. I HAVE recognized all that I have NOT done. I HAVE seen the ways to change my behavior. I HAVE realized that despite the fact that I would love to be older, there is not much time I will have after that. I HAVE realized that now is when I need to be living my life, preparing for my future. TAKING ACTION.

NOW is when I need to do it all. But I am scared. Honestly. I am frightened. All that I know is myself, and even that I do not know so well. How can I face the world when no one will be there to face it with me and I am too afraid to face it with myself? I am afraid to live in my own skin. To breath, to feel, to decide, to move. I’m afraid of existing with the rest of humanity because I see all that they are capable of, the good and the bad, and it frightens me.

They say that acceptance is the first step. Well the harder one (in my mind at least) is taking action. I have accepted all of these things inside myself, and now it is time to act on them. But I cannot. I have placed restrictions and rules upon myself, and they have been in place so long that I cannot seem to remove them. Thoughts that coincide with the acceptance of myself are suppressed out of habit. They have been repressed for so long I cannot seem to revive them. But like the crocus scattered about my yard, it will only take the right conditions and a bit of nourishment to set me free.

I sit here typing, while the rest of the world spins rapidly, spins every individual their own web, and I see mine, but I’m afraid step out on it and catch myself a fly.

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