Dear Dee...
You don't know me, but I know you. And this story is being written to turn that around. Because it's likely you'll never get to know me. Chances are I'll be gone by the time your old enough to say my name...
Why does it always come to this? Why am I always running-not just from people, but from myself? No matter where I go, I can't escape this shadow inside me, this gnawing emptiness that swallows everything good before I can even hold onto it. I thought I knew what love was once-love for others, love for myself-but maybe that was just another lie I told myself to keep going.