Someone once told me a moving analogue that moved me. He started...

"Picture yourself tree skiing. What do you look for when tree skiing?"

"Anything but the trees," I answered confused.

"So what is it you look for exactly?

"Ummm the snow I guess. I look for the snow."

"Exactly. You look for the snow, the open spots, the clear path, am I right?" He asked.

"Yes I guess you are right."

"Now what DON'T you look for when you're skiing in the trees?"

"The trees."

"Why is that?"

"Because if I look at them I'll hit them...?"

"Bingo." He firmly stated. "Now picture this...The snow is the positivity in your life and in the world, and the trees are the negativity. If you look and strive for the open path, the clear road, the white stuff, you'll be surrounded by more positive vibes. Not only because you didn't crash into the tree and kills yourself, but because your goal is happiness and you are achieving your goals of getting it. Whereas if you look at the tree, you'll hit it and be pissed off and be in a lot of pain and that brings more negativity that isn't needed or wanted into your life."

Long story short, strive for happiness, not negativity. Because even the slightest glance to the dark side can move you to the dark side.

She was young, she was bold, she was lost and absurd. She was drowning in her thoughts and longing for a shot of something...new. She lost everything she had worked for. Every last morsel. Her family was torn apart and her grades slipped off a cliff and her one calling was taken away from her for poor reason. She found that after the tragedies of being young occurred she should share her knowledge and character with others. She traveled from lunch table to lunch table at her local junior high and made newer and better friends that actually needed her. In them, she found a piece of herself. They needed her life lessons, they needed her ability of being able to coach one through their suicidal days, they needed her gift of giving hopeless romantics hope. They needed her. And that was when she realized that maybe she was worth something bigger than she thought. Even though she is still lost, still confused, still pondering her decisions and still trying to figure out how start up her new beginning. She finally had hope.

And today, she is writing about her. Today, she is telling the hidden story book of her.

And her, is me.

Her story, is my story.