I’ve had a pretty rough life, especially for a sixteen-year-old. But I’m not here to tell you all about it and probably bring you to tears; I’m writing this because I have the whole world unaware that any of it happened; because I don’t want it to change how people look at me. You may think that sympathy will make you feel better, but sometimes it makes things worse. I can smile, I can laugh, but if people knew, they’d have a hard time seeing me as a happy person. A few would only see my years of therapy, and how long it has taken me to be this happy. Because some people will pity you for awhile, and some people will pity you their whole life.