Sometimes I stay awake until 3 o’clock in the morning just to see what happens, and grow bitterly disappointed when nothing does.

Sometimes I walk without an umbrella in the rain to feel the drops hit my skin, a sheet of frigid satin, so I know that I’m still alive.

Sometimes I have the oddest urge to do something reckless, so I stifle it with chocolate and then later exercise to burn it off.

Sometimes I read a sad book so that I have an excuse to cry.

Sometimes I wonder if, when I’m old and wiser, I’ll think back to myself right now and wish I’d done some little, seemingly insignificant thing differently.

Sometimes I think of everything I’ve done wrong in my life and want to scream and scream and scream until I lose my voice because I’m only 15 years old and there must be so much more to come.

Sometimes I sigh and look out the window at blurry shapes because I think that my glasses make me look ugly and so I never truly see.

Sometimes I think about whether or not I’ll ever fall in love and, if I do, he’s thinking exactly the same thing right now, wondering if I’m the one who really exists out there.

And sometimes... sometimes I feel such an overwhelming joy for life that it makes all the other crap bearable. It’s all just passably bearable... as long as there’s that ‘sometimes’.