I became good at pretending. I became so good that after a while the lines blurred between my truth and fiction. And sometimes, when I did a really good job of pretending, I even fooled myself.

I have scars on my hands from touching certain people.

If pain can purify the heart, mine will be pure.

There are far too many silent sufferers. Not because they don’t yearn to reach out, but because they’ve tried and found no one who cares.