Dear Diary, Who am I?

         One of my biggest perils is empathy. It may seem strange, but in deeper analysis it makes a lot of sense. I feel what other people feel; Pain, happiness, love, hatred, etc. It may come in good use, but sometimes it’s overpowering. Past events in our history are what define us. My past is far from dinner table discussion with cousins at Thanksgiving. This past may be the cause of this insane sense of empathy. If you laugh, I laugh until I lose my breath. If you cry, I cry enough to restore water in third world countries. If you need a shoulder to lean on, I open my heart to recovery. If you despise me, I question my existence.  It’s great that I have had such an impact in the lives of others, but these emotions fill my mind, body and soul. Poetry is where my trust lies. I can write on any topic, and still be able to let out all my emotions in my words. My words are what keep me in the state that I am, and without it I don’t know how sane I would be. I have my past to thank for this. Who I am, who I was, and who I will be later in life. My mistakes, discoveries, and victories are what will define me, and I am thankful to be who I am.