Time flies when you’re actually living, I suppose. I miss the person I used to be, though I’m not sure I’d return to her.
Leaving behind the chaos of my parents in Taiwan during my teenage years
with no one waiting for me in Paris
was an act of quiet bravery I couldn’t yet name. The pain back then was too vast to carry, and somehow, starting from zero at nineteen felt lighter than staying in the wreckage of it all.
