I'm eighteen, female. My hair is 70% curl and 30% frizz. I voluntarily left my country and I have one hundred and forty six days before I return to my home. I am displaced but thriving. I'm in a special time in my life, that is, I am enjoying my first big love. I hate to write but am only pleased once I have written. I have undergone a lifetime of growth in six months and survived, but it isn't as impressive a feat as it sounds. I am typically happy despite of my growing list of concerns.
a longing in my heart has stirred a faded memory
the only purpose in my life was finding you
was I chasing you or were you chasing me?
will I ever find someone pursuing me?