I'm the girl who cries at the drop of a hat. The girl who wakes up too early and needs coffee to survive. Who likes to share every inner revelation but struggles to put her own thoughts into words.

I'm the girl who dreams up silly scenarios that never come true. The girl who hates talking on the phone but is constantly waiting for it to ring. Who wants to save the world but resorts to writing journal entries instead.

I'm the girl who revels in solitude but is unable to forget about that certain someone—the one person in a sea of people—who continuously catches her eye. The girl who is well acquainted with guilt and always seems to have an apology on the tip of her tongue. Who is nostalgic to a fault and never without hope.

I'm that girl. You know, the one who can't help but wear her heart on her sleeve even when she tries to be guarded. Who desperately wishes to surrender but has a terrible fear of falling.

I can be weak, impatient, starry-eyed, and worrisome all at the same time. This was me last week and is me again today and will most likely be me tomorrow, too. But maybe there's some truth in believing that this state I'm in is not so cursed after all; perhaps I'm just on the cusp of something beautiful and extraordinary. Because even amidst all of the chaos, little by little, I find myself learning to let go.