To the one that was always a bit too passionate, a little too idealistic for her own good. To the one that could be wild, reckless and careless for the sake of a fun time. The one that learned to love deeply and fully, throwing all of her heart into everything she did, but would never see half of that heart returned. To the one that spent her nights buzzing with ideas and escaping to worlds of promise and possibility in her dreams. You expect so much in this one life of ours.

You wish to live life to its fullest extent, and yet it always falls short of your expectations. Because after all of those nights you spent wide awake in your bed thinking and dreaming with eyes wide open, you have created a world of your own. You have created a world in that eccentric mind of yours so finely detailed that no reality could ever fulfill these dreams. There you have found wistful romance, untrodden forests and earnest companionship. There you have seen a future of travel, spontaneity and limitless potential. There you have felt everything so deeply, that you wake up in the morning with a warm pain in your chest and a soft smile upon your face. Here you have found mediocrity.

You're seen as naïve, out of touch and childish maybe.

You're a vagabond, a drifter, a rolling stone, a romanticist, a wanderer, a renegade.

You dance spontaneously, you speak your mind and you experience with open arms. You know how to have a good time, you know how to let loose but you're often mistaken for lacking depth. Can they take you seriously? Sometimes you lose your way as you wrestle between reality and fiction. You laugh when it may be inappropriate, you test extremes that frighten your peers and you wander aimlessly. You're restless, discontent and often unruly. Because no matter how hard you wreck your brain you just cannot seem to fathom how life cannot be like the movies. Where could these ideas of love and friendship and adventure emerge from if at one point they were not real?

You're an optimist, an idealist, an escapist, a radical, a visionary, a dreamer.

But they say you will mature with age.

They say that time will force you to shed these dreams, and trash the escape acts. They feed you over the counter prescriptions and diagnose you with ADHD as a means of justifying your habitual distraction. They encourage you with words of potential and plead with you to focus on the plan, yet you see no purpose in their cries. You find no passion in your textbook. And you feel no happiness amongst the crowds of rational people. Something within you screams for more. There simply must be more.

They say you're the one who needs saving. The one who always needs a rock to ground you from your flighty tendencies. Yet there is something magical in this fantasized reality of yours, something lost upon the masses. There is depth and imagination and pools of curiosity. There is craving and indulgence. There is a raging spark of something exceptional within you that refuses to be silenced. It energizes each dream and friendship and experience. It causes you to question everything around you. It defies norms and it gravitates towards challenges.

They say you're the one who needs saving. And yet you may be just crazy enough to transcend your fiction into a reality, to create your ideas into products. You just may be wild enough to stand amongst the greats that too were silenced, and struggled with worlds of words unsaid. There is something captivating in your spark, even enviable.

But they say you're the one who needs saving.