The camp for girls

I was doing great ya know. My head was filled with everything but my scarred heart. I was happy, stinky, and content. Then I came home. I don't know why exactly, but the tenderness of my heart has grown worse. I just need to take it a day at a time.
For some reason, many people thing he likes me. I think differently. Very very differently.


We all have scars right? I have one in the middle of my forehead, from the chicken pocks. Another on my right ankle. One on my left knee. It builds character and it makes us who we are. Without these scars, we wouldn't be anywhere. To read about my scars go to here and ask to read. It should be an interesting story. 


 
lots of love,
Kara