No.

Little one, you don't understand

That your heart is big but your dreams...

They so quickly dissolve.

I am no God.

Don't believe the novels you love.

John Green makes life sound so pretty,

But there is more to life than that.

There is more to life

Than the boy you think you love.

There is more to life

Than the things tearing you apart.

There is more to life

Than you, you silly child.

I wish I'd known life then.

One day, you will meet someone

On the Internet

And no, it won't be the horror story

You see on TV.

But you will say you are in love.

They will say it back.

Until they don't.

Until they give half-assed answers to

Why, why, why?

Check the damages.

Three years and a few hundred dollars.

You thought they were The One.

You don't know if you'll ever love again.

You will.

Oh, darling, you will.

You'll fall for your best friend

And life will change before your eyes.

Calm down, you don't know them yet.

You won't for a couple of years, still.

And you won't suspect them

Until it hits you in the face

Harder than the basketball hoop you smacked into at recess in the fourth grade.

It's worth everything that came before.

But there's more to life than that.

You know, don't you, little one.

I'm not so much a writer anymore.

I dabble, sure.

But you can tell I'm rusty, can't you?

I'm focused far more on my art now.

Believe it or not, I'm a painter.

Well, not like you're thinking.

I don't have a studio and gallery showings.

My art gets little recognition.

But I've made money on it.

Can you believe?

You think I'm close to finishing college.

No. I dropped out.

You think I'm straight.

Nope. Far from it.

You think I'm a girl.

Honey, you've got a big storm coming.

You think I'm a God.

Darling, I'm just a boy

Lost in a world

That keeps trying to suffocate me.

Things are tough.

So much harder than they were back then.

Clinical depression

An empty bank account

Five months searching for a job...

Our parents won't speak to us anymore.

Or, well, half of them.

Both sets surprise us in the end.

It still hurts.

But I'm still standing.

The key, little one,

Is to remind yourself

That not everything that hurts

Will kill you.

You learn to stick your head up.

You put on a smile.

You hold tight to what you love.

Because here's the thing.

You will wish you savored high school.

Everyone in your graduating class loves you.

There's twelve of you by the end.

You'll count down the days

And then cry in front of everyone.

You'll hate the teacher

That is currently your favorite.

You'll hate half of the books

You currently love.

You'll look back

In five years and say,

"Wow I was dumb."

But you'll long to be back there again.

I am not you.

I am not who you wanted to be.

I am someone else entirely.

I am Orion.

I am strong enough to survive, but weak overall.

I am afraid of planes, and confrontation, and appendicitis.

I am attached to New Mexico in a way you insisted we'd never be.

I am prone to crying or laughing fits when tired. It's a roll of the dice.

I am overly invested in World of Warcraft, and Dungeons & Dragons, and podcasts. (Sorry.)

I am somewhere in between "say that to my face" and "I will apologize for something you did," but not in a way that is "medium."

I am desperate for physical contact but simultaneously anxious about affection. (I don't know why.)

I am constantly worrying about illnesses I may very well have, but I don't have the money for doctor's bills.

I am struggling to make my passion into my profession but I just. Can't. Get. Seen.

I am, get this, a cat person.

I am constantly wondering if I'll ever feel intelligent again.

I am turning twenty-one this month and I share a bed with my partner, but I still sleep with stuffed animals.

I am not sure who I'm trying to impress half the time. I think it might be myself.

I am not who you want me to be.

I'm just a boy.

I can't even hold a train of thought.

(I'm sure you can tell.)

But I like me better than I used to.

So at least I have that going for me.

Hang in there, kid.

Don't give up.

We'll get there, together.