Dear Self, As of today, I am eighteen years old. My thoughts are mixed up, as always, so I'll try to keep this as concise as I can. Sitting here and writing this, I honestly can't believe this much time has passed. Seems like yesterday that I was losing my first tooth and riding my bike with my friends. It's funny how life moves so quickly. Right now it's almost as if I haven't had the time to let it all sink in that my childhood, in all legal aspects anyway, is over. I'm an adult. Well…officially. I've been an adult in my own mind since I was...pfft, oh, seven maybe? I have a lot of people in my mind, people in this Earthly realm and those who have passed, sitting and looking down on me from the Ether. My heart somewhat mourns for those like Mattie Stepanek, of whom I took in such high esteem - those who will never make it to adulthood, even if it is merely on paper. And I think of the parents that will never watch their children mature, be it because of their own death or their child's, or some other cause by which they must be parted. I miss those I've lost. I've learned a lot since turning seventeen...about the importance of love, and family, and devotion to both. About the people I know, and having the knowledge that you can never know everything about anyone. I've learned about being a writer, an artist, and the hardships one must endure in order to improve this skill and lifestyle, and oh - it is indeed a task. But most of all, I have to say, I've learned about myself. One can never fully understand themselves until they take a good, hard look at the way their life has been and is headed. My life, ah...it's been full of duality. With every light there has been a dark, and with every joy there has been a pain. But all of this has made me who I am, and I'm proud to say that - much as it seems life has tried - none of the pain or strife has broken me. If anything, it's made me gain self-confidence to say, "You know what? I've been through worse. Bring it on, bitch." Yeah, you know...things have been somewhat difficult for me over a span of some years now, there have been some issues here and there that weren't needed and that caused great pain to not only myself, but to those around me. But rather than sit and dwell about how bad my life was going, I took it into myself on a deeper level and chose to make something good of it. There is a serious difference between existing and living. I chose life, that was that, and the odds were against me from the very beginning. So, being who I am, what else could I do but give the world the middle finger and strive on past it? It's in my nature, in my blood, in my soul to survive. There never has been and never will be any other option, other than to live. Really live. You can't stay in the dark forever, after all. On this day I remember all the others times I sat here and wrote my feelings and emotions on my previous birthdays, and it strikes me that never have I felt this way during any of them. I feel good...and alive. I feel happy. This birthday is different from any other for me. I've been waiting for this for a long time. It's the beginning of a new life, in a way. My book is almost finished, three more chapters to go. That is my starting point. The rest will fall into place. So to the little girl in me: sweetheart, you're coming along for the ride. Hold on to your pigtails, we're going at lightning speed. Happy Eighteenth Birthday, Self. This is going to be a good one, perhaps even the best yet. -Summer, age 18