[AN: Sometimes it's just not boys/girls that break our hearts. Sometimes it's those we thought never would. ]  

You think my childhood was scraped knees, ice cream smiles, and campfires. You are wrong. I lived in darkness for so long; surrounded by yelling, bruises, and alcohol. I saw my mom become a scarred shell, constantly covering the purple marks with phony smiles that she gave to me and the world. Every night I looked out my window and hoped for a miracle. You came back when I was eight. You wanted me to love you, but you were just a face to a name. After a month you abandoned your role again.

 You think my teenage years were loud music, first dates, and sweet new beginnings. You're wrong. I found therapy in sharp objects, narrating my loneliness on my skin. I was a walking book of secrets. I loathed everything I was, including the anger inside me. The world was painted in shades of red. I drank until my life blurred into a tolerable mess. You came back when I was fifteen. You wanted me to love you, to embrace you, but you were just another face I abhorred. This time it took a week for you to leave.

I am twenty-three now. I have experienced things that shattered my soul into incomprehensible pieces, but I have spent years finding faith to put them all back together (it is not entirely whole, but it is getting there). Some days it is hard to get out of bed, but most of the time my life is a kaleidoscope of beautiful colors. I am happy. Everything around me has shaped me into the person I am now. And every day I am learning to love the reflection in the mirror. You are back again now. You want me to love you, to embrace you, but you are a flight risk. And I have promised myself not to give my heart to people that have a habit of letting me down.