The Trees Changed Every Season, and So Did I.
I can't talk about being proud of myself without crying. Over time I taught myself that my growth had no significance amongst an entire world that is constantly growing. Maturity was inevitable, everyone around was also going through the same thing and somehow that transferred into never understanding the importance of acknowledging that for myself. The trees changed every season, and so did I. Big deal. But now that I am doing less changing of who I am and finding more ownership, there is an undoubtedly large chunk of love missing from my insides. My love. Pride in myself is nearly nonexistent. The trees must be proud of themselves for making it another year. For changing colors and blooming again after a cold, long winter. I cannot properly grow without the most crucial ingredient. There is so much to do to get ready for the world, and I have found myself continuing to add to that list, but this has risen to the top. I came to this realization after stumb...