I am big in the world. I mean, I have eyes that look where they shouldn’t, and ears that listen to what they shouldn’t, but hey, that’s me. And sometimes, even I need a break from shaking my fists at the sky...but hey, doesn’t everyone? I am that girl that mumbles, that hates herself for never having the courage to accomplish what the darkness has allowed her to see. I am that girl that loves cars stuffed with sleeping bags, graphing conics without a calculator, and her daddy’s laughter. I am that girl that stretches her arms wide, not to test the new, but to collect the pieces of myself that I’ve lost. I am that girl that believes the faster you run, the easier it is to leave it all behind. I run not to get to my destination, but to get away from the start. I am that girl that backs up into the future with my eyes on the past. I am that girl that played with sixteen Barbie dolls with shirts too tight, jeans way blue, and hair so soft. I am that girl that dreamed my sixteenth would mean...shirts too tight and jeans way blue and letting a baby blue convertible teach my knotted black hair how to fly. I want to write something revolutionary that makes your palms sweat and your heart pound. I want to write something that in fifty years, that girl—in that pink sweater that I passed by on that street that one overcast day—will gently fold back the dog-eared corner, and fill her lover’s ears with the music of connection. So, here’s my letter to the world: as you churn, foam, and bubble our sighs, let me breathe you in, for I am big in this world.