If I could be anything in this world I would be rare. So rare that the people I loved never forgot me or ever found anything to compare me to. I was never a type, but the only type--the person you couldn't throw away because you would never be able to describe the mystery of something that didn't fit this world.

Forgiveness happens when you stop wishing for someone else to become what you want them to be.

Sensitive people care when the world doesn't because we understand waiting to be rescued and no one shows up. We have rescued ourselves, so many times that we have become self taught in the art of compassion for those forgotten.