dear insecurities,

we are born as a blank canvas;

you sketched me out.

you covered me in colors.

you made mistakes that you couldn't erase with acrylic paints.

the paint dried.

no matter how much you scratched, it remained; permanent.

but did you ever think about what i wanted?

maybe i liked the white color the canvas started out as,

and you just ruined it.

sincerely, dan howell (a frustrated boy)

dan howell returned to the cafe day after day. the pages in his journal will filling up slowly as he scribbled his thoughts on the thin sheets of paper. the blue eyed boy was there every day.

when dan walked in today, he was sure the boy was smiling at him. or were his eyes deceiving him?

"here's your drink," the barista had said to him.

"i haven't ordered anything yet."

"your drink has already been paid for by him," she said, pointing to the black haired boy.

dan found himself smiling as he read the note on the cup.

i saw you smiling at me the other day. your smile is very pretty. -phil x

dan pulled his journal back out, and added on to his earlier letter.

dear insecurities,

scars may be ugly,

but its a mark of survival.

i'm alive,

and i found a reason to remain that way.

sincerely dan howell (a smiling boy)

dan was not happy, but he found himself grinning more often.