Before you know it, everyone knows your life.

And you know what?

I’m okay with that.

You can talk about me all you want. You can create a time line of every event in my history. You can paint pictures of every scene that I endure. But your words and paintings will hold no substance, because you’ll never feel what I feel. You can’t feel my love, my happiness, my anger, or my hurt. You can’t feel the adrenaline rushes, the anxiety attacks, the harsh fights, and most importantly, the connections that I have with others.

So you may think that you know things.

But really, you don’t know anything at all.

You can see my scars, but you’ll never feel them.