I keep wondering what I am going to do with my life. I have so many dreams. But they simply aren't realistic. And real life isn't what any of my dreams reflect. All I know is that I want to be an author. I need to be an author. But how I am going to get from here to there I don't know. 

Guess I am just a teenager with her head full of hopes of a perfect live with a perfect love. Because if I could live my dreams then that is how it would be. And so that is how I dream of my future. Even though I know it is unlikely. Any of this making sense to you guys?

I wish I could become Cuitadella Sanda. I wish I could live the life of my books. 

To be honest I am scared of the future now. And saying that scares me. Because I have never been scared of the future. The future has always been my hope, not my fear. 

Whether she will ever read this I don't know...I did tell her about this blog today. But who knows which posts she will read, and which she won't. I don't mind her reading this. I mean she went through it all with me, and she has even read my diary, so you can't really get anymore personal than that. Sometimes I suspect she knows me better than I know myself. 

Don't get me wrong though, there are certain things I would never dream of telling her, partly because I am ashamed of them, partly because she has this view of me as being quite good and well, innocent I guess. Yet I have done some pretty bad stuff in my time. What teenage girl hasn't. 

Anyway, I am sidetracking. What was I going to say? 

Sara is an important part of my life. She means a lot to me, and I would trust her with my life. With her, I know that she will never judge me, never run away, never share my secrets. I know that she will always be my surrogate mother. Always care. And I also know that she will never know just how much she means to me. She in a way, brought me back to life. She gave me what no one else could when I was feeling at my worst. She gave me belief, not only in myself, but also in the world around me. She gave me the ability to care once again, about myself, and others. She helped me to trust. To trust her. To trust me. To trust my family. 

It is because of her that at the end of hard days that I sit on my bed, in the dark, look out of my window and pray to God. Not because I really believe in Him. I am agnostic. But because I believe in her. And she believes in Him. And so I pray. 

She always saw the best in me. And me in her. I look up to her. She is my Angel.