I’m scared shitless to grow up. In the sense that everyone I love will die, or luckily I’ll die before I know more tragedy. But then all the people I love and love me will miss me. In the sense that I’m expected to become a strong woman that is supportive to another human being. Someone that is to raise babies and grow old and love. That’s what I want. It’s all I really want. I want to be a woman my father would be proud of. But down deep, I already know I am. Deeper down, I fear that I’m just telling myself all this and I know I’ll never be good enough. Or I was never good enough when he was alive…and I’ll never have that personal satisfaction. It doesn’t matter how many times my mom tells me or my friends or anyone…I never felt like I was good enough for him. Butnl someday…maybe I’ll be good enough for me. Maybe.