Anniversaries have always strick me as strange. One year your this way, the next your that. The year is no longer measured January to December but by where you were this time last year. Well despite the differences of the summers i have always been a mouse. I never take risks, i hated the stomach flip. Not this time no. I'm lusting for it, cracing it. I'll pull my hair out if nothing happens to me. I breath, I blink,, I tremble. I'm alive but i've yet to live. I dye my hair, pierce my earsm wear that thight purple dress. But the only thing that changed is my appearence. I'm still a mouse in a costume