I know not.
Sometimes, I am the sun. Light radiates from my skin and I am a beautiful girl; not because I am particularly attractive in any way, but because I am filled with vitality. My eyes show others the peace within me; my mind tricks me never.
Other times, I am the moon. Still beautiful, but in a way different than that of the shining sun. I am not always the same. Though I float on my own and have reason to be in the sky, there is a nature about me that is forever uncertain to rationality. I will still find passion in today. Maybe somebody will see me in the afternoon. They will certainly see me at night, sleeping early up in the heavenly sky.
Is there someone else inside of me? I am not 16. I have lived a thousand lives inside my own body and have thought and heard more from my own skull than she who has not yet reached adulthood. Good God, why is it I who must think these things?
I might not ever know. I might not ever know. I might not ever know.
I might not ever know.
But that’s okay, I’ll tell myself.
I think that’s okay.
I will think that things are okay, and eventually I might believe myself in the way that I trust that things are not okay. Today, things are not okay, and that is fine, because I am not always supposed to be okay. I think as long as I am a person of living, breathing flesh, things will be okay.
Did I mention the word ‘okay’?