My name is Denisa, I am 20 years old and I am flawed. Yes, flawed! As bad as it can get. I am not writing this to make myself relatable, to make myself feel special and unique or to receive compliments. I am writing this because I don’t know who I am, because I have lost myself in the day between yesterday and today. A day that settled just in my mind, a day that my imagination created, stretching time just to elongate my agony. I have been lost and found and lost again. I’ve been oscillating between miserable and horrible. At one point I’ve been emptied of all that humans call feelings. I couldn’t draw anything between seconds, neither happiness nor hate. It was an empty void that was eating me from the inside while I rotted away in my own little world that I called life. My eyes were hollowed and silent, they would only flinch at the sight of light that became so unbearable. In between short breaths I could hear my heartbeat and it only made me wonder how was it possible that it still existed. My heart was now nothing more than a mechanism that pumped blood in my thin veins so I wouldn’t die. It’s terrifying how easily this fragile construction of bones breaks down in slow motion.