December 7th, 2022
Katie Winslow, Aged 31.

Dear Journal,

I've seen so many people with scars. I am best friends with someone with more scars than I can count. And I'm married to a woman with nearly as many scars as the first person mentioned.

But I can't heal scars. And it hurts when I have to explain to kids in countries that aren't my own that the scar they have won't ever go away, that it's one of the things I am unable to fix.

That really fucking hurts.

Now, I don't go out and throw myself into the middle of a fight like Regina or Dani. I don't have a lot of scars.

But the ones I do continue to haunt me forever. Like the stab wound I got in Shri Lanka, I could have died if I was alone.

Or the two bullet wounds I received helping Regina in Italy.

And there are others. My job isn't a cake walk, I didn't ask for it to be one either. I can live with my scars.

But not everyone can wake up and see their scars without feeling pain even though the initial wound has healed. That part, that takes time.

There are two things that are extremely finicky and tricky to heal. Cancer and Amnesia.

There are two things that I absolutely cannot fix. Conditions you were born with and Scars.

I am human, I have limits. Anyone who believes otherwise is misinformed.

I am no god, I bleed. I cry. I hurt. I do that A lot more than I would like.

And I can work miracles, but I can't change fate. The universe has some weird twisted fate for all of us, and it isn't up to me to say screw the universe, I just go where I'm needed, help where I can and try my very hardest to be kind.

It doesn't always work out that way. Sometimes I have to do the hurting to survive. Sometimes I am forced to raise my voice, to get angry. But I try not to.

I like to leave the angry to Regina and Dani. They do a better job at that.

I just stand back and let them fight for me, because I like to think I have a better job.

I keep everyone breathing.