someone has taken a hold of the steering wheel of my soul and is slowly navigating it through a sea of despair, battling through winds of heartbreak, and hoping to dodge storms carrying pocketfuls of depression.

but that someone is not me.

it has been 17 years, and instead of finding myself each year, i’m losing sight of who i am. i can’t seem to tell the real stephanie apart from all the facsimiles people have formed of me; who said i wanted to exceed the expectations you carved for me? people have always told me that i can go to them with anything, tell them anything, and cry anytime, but i doubt they’d understand. they expect me to be this whole creature who is strong enough to withstand anything and keep a nice smile on my face … but that is not me. i’m weak, i get jealous, i throw fits of uncontrollable rage and in such moments of confusion, a distinct echo is awakened in me that reminds me that my life is nothing but a mirage of brokenness with pictures attached together by glue mixed with pain. so, i’m tired of acting like i’m ok. i have a right to my feelings. when i look at myself, i see that i am alone, all alone, all alone.

i am not the captain of my soul and … neither is god.