I have scars.

I have scars on my hands arms back from when my sister used to pinch me. I have a scar on my forehead from when I tripped and fell and knocked my face on a screw at Kinder-Care. I have a scar on my knee from when I was getting out of a hot tub once, slipped, fell and gouged my knee on the corner tiles. I have scars on the outside of my arms from when they were in casts after I broke my arms. I have a scar on my inner thigh from when my cat got freaked out, jumped off the fridge and sliced my leg open with her claws. I have a scar on my belly button from multiple piercings. I have a scar on my right shin from when a girl kicked me when we were playing soccer. I have a scar on my hand from when I cut it on a plateless metal box in my cousins' basement. I have a scar on my other inner thigh from when I was shaking out my razor one day and sliced my leg.

I have a scar on my heart from when my dad left. I have a scar on my soul from when my Nana left. And when God left. I have a scar on my sense of security from when all of my friends left. I have a still-healing gouge across my self-confidence left by every boy who ever made me his second choice. I have a scar across the child in me from when she grew up too fast. I have a scar across my memories from when I blocked them out ignored them denied them. I have a scar across my outspoken self because I'm afraid of my mom. I have a scar across my brain from trying to Figure It All Out.

I have scars from boys. I have scars from girls. I have scars - the deepest, most profound and saddest - from loving too much those who didn't love me.

I have scars of regret. Scars of foolishness. Scars of sadness. Scars of triumph. Scars of happiness, anger, pain, loss. Scars I don't remember.