It was the first storm of the season. After months, so dry. The rain pouring down, washing away the watchful eyes.

Cradling myself, I say goodbye. Thunder crashes, muffling past cries. The rain gets louder, yet the noise goes quiet.

I can’t say what I think, I can only write it. If I try to speak, it comes out jumbled. Some might think, I’m a little troubled.

So now that the past thoughts have washed away, I prepare myself for the next onslaught, As if, at this point, it isn’t cliche.

Cradling myself, I say goodbye. Thunder crashes, muffling past cries. The rain gets louder, yet the noise goes quiet.

"Is it a girl or a boy?" The colour came out pink, and there I was within a blink. I grew up with Barbie dolls, dressed in pastels. I got excited on the beach when I found a pink shell.

Then came school, first grade. Girls were like, "Who likes pink? It's so girly." And with that, I made a huge mistake.

From then on, my favourite colours changed. It went from blue to red, to gold, to a wide range. Because the thought of being seen as a "girly girl, who likes pink," I did not appreciate. It went to such a large extent of trying not to be seen as a "weak, girly girl" that I'd cried when my mum bought me pink pillows.

Nowadays, my laptop case, pencil case, and bottle are pink. My room has pink posters all over, and it's funny as I still have those pink pillows. I smile when I see pink roses. My candles are mostly pink and I blow them out with gentle wishes. I get all giddy when my friend lends me her pink stapler. I feel extra happy when I put on pink lipgloss, even though to some, it's nothing major.

Taylor Swift once said, "I want to wear pink and tell you how I feel about politics."

Now, I know what she meant. Embracing femininity doesn't mean you're weaker or detested. It means you embrace yourself and stay strong-willed. Because you can wear glitter and be a lawyer. You can wrestle with pink nail polish. You can wear a dress and debate. You can smile and stand up for what matters.

You can be a person who loves pink and be strong at the same time.

I love pink.

“It’s okay, I have tomorrow.”

My eyes stare at themselves through the mirror. It's 11:09, the day went by in another procrastination blur.

What did I eat for breakfast? Oh, maybe I skipped. What about work? I did nothing, just gained an impending thirst.

My water bottle sits there. In front of me, caught in my stare. I only took five sips, maybe three. Who am I kidding? Only me.

I look at my face, tired eyes and skin that haven't seen the sun or smiled at anyone. I stare at my feet, which are equipped to walk, but ought to venture out and have some fun.

I look at the clock, it's 11:11. Could this be a sign from the universe, from the angels in heaven? "I can do this," I say as I set my alarm for 6. "I can do this," I say as I prepare my clothes for the next day. "I can do this," I say as I get into bed with a book and not my phone.

The next day comes, it's 9 o'clock. Oh, what did I do at six? Nothing, just turned my phone off.

It's 11:13 now, it was nothing but a day of drowning in my self-destructive sorrows. "It's okay, I have tomorrow."

"If I were her, I'd go mad." "Oh look at her poor self, trying to get through the war without flashbacks."

But oh, she had every right to go mad. But did she? She had every right to fall back into her memories. And get lost in the endless screams.

She could of let the darkness sink into her veins as she felt the evil take her over. She could have welcomed the darkness in a huge embrace and let herself get lost. She had every right to become the villain. She had every right to drink the poison.

But she didn't. I look at sunflowers and think of her. Bright autumn leaves, and all I see is her. A steaming cup of tea, and it's just her.

I don't know of everything she went through. And I ought to find out more. But from now on, I'm with her, in this war.

I had two choices. One with a future so certain it was like predicting a cliche play's last part. The other, with no information, just a certain fresh start.

I chose the second of course, otherwise I wouldn't be here. I wouldn't be writing this, but instead, I think I'd be shedding a tear. I chose the door with no certain outcome, but I also chose the door where I found my tongue. It wasn't friend number one's or friend number three's, it was my own and with it, I felt free.

Nowadays, I wonder what could have happened. Whether I would of been happy, or if I was just saddened. But I also think of what I could have missed if I hadn't chosen door number two. Maybe I was still using friend number one's tongue and following her around. But of course, destiny didn't think that it was bound.

Now to think of missing door number two, I wince. Because I took the road less travelled by, and that has made all the difference.