Me, with wet eyes and a hopeful look. It took me so long to get here. Now that I climbed all the way. All those years. I can’t believe I still feel empty inside.

Me, dancing to that new viral pop song. My hair flying around. The headphones almost popping out of my ears. I have a big smile on my lips. This week will be better than the last one.

Me, sitting on a bench in the park near the oak trees. The sunshine bouncing off my hair. Fiery red. I brought my cat along. She is poking her head out of my backpack. Today I made my first friend in this new town.

Me, with a tired face. You can see my shoulders hanging low. Bags under my eyes. I haven’t smiled in months. The cancer came back. They say she has a couple of months at best.

Me, in front of the mirror. You see my whole body. The flowing blue dress shimmering in the afternoon sun. I give it a whirl. My hair suspended in mid-air. My student loans defaulted last week.

Me, on a trek in the mountains. The trees swaying in the breeze. Greens, browns, reds and yellows. Fall has come. I have been sober for two years now.

Me, standing by the water. Orange jacket, black hat. Ships in the background. Roaring fighter jets speeding over our heads. A big part of me died during the war.

Me, out with my football buddies. We are celebrating our big win today with beers and burgers. The whole team is amped up. Cheering. High-fiving. I never dared to tell anybody that I like men.

Me, lying on the beach in Hawaii. Wearing a black bikini, getting tanned, drinking a beer. I look relaxed. In my left hand a book that I just put down. My best friend is getting married. But not to me.

Me, eating noodle soup at my aunt’s house. We are sitting at the big round table in the kitchen. My brother is grinning at my sister. They just had a feisty exchange. The soup’s taste brings me back to the days I spent with my grandmother before she got alzheimers.