This isn’t a pretty story, but it’s the one that made me who I am.
When I was 19, I thought losing people was the worst thing that could happen to me.
Then I lost almost everyone at once.
Not because I betrayed anyone.
Not because I did something terrible.
I simply chose myself for the first time.
And apparently, some people only loved me when I was easy to control.
My closest friend looked at me and said, You’ve changed.
I whispered, I’m just tired.
She shrugged.
You’re selfish now.
I never forgot those words.