Storms. Sunshine.

"There comes a point in your life when you realize:

who matters, who never did, who won't anymore and who always will.

Stop worrying about people from your past

because there is a reason why they did not make it to your future.

Be kinder than necessary

because everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle."

. . .

It is often interesting to receive forwarded e-mails. Though they say "forward to those you love" or "send this before you have bad luck" it is very rare that I forward, or share, previously forwarded emails. As I embark on the new journeys of my life I have taken a lot of time, practically devoted my entire summer, to reading between the lines. I read between the lines on relationships - both platonic and romantic. I read between the lines on education and choices. I read between the lines on the lyrics of music. I read between the lines on sibling rivalries. I read between the lines on life and death.

. . .

In all of these reading and rhetoric, it is hard for me to digest my findings. The more I love the more I lose. The more I read the more I forget. The more I listen to music, the more I go deaf. The more I make note of sibling rivalries, the more acknowledgement I receive on the matter. The more I try to live, the more I see death.

. . .

The irony of this storm is it is the happiest saddest time in my life.