I told my mom once that I wanted to fall in love. She started planning a funeral for me instead. And when I met him, I thought I had proved her wrong. Turns out she was right all along, though not in the way I thought she had meant. I fell in love with a boy. I fall in love with him more and more everyday. And he hasn’t beaten me, or broken me, or crushed me. And he hasn’t mended me, or fixed me. What he has done is change me, from the inside out. No more of the fragile girl, scared to even get her feet wet. Now I’m the girl dancing in the rain. No more of the girl terrified of making a mistake. I welcome the girl who makes 12 mistakes before breakfast. No more of the girl with the dresses and pink lips. Now there’s the girl with the ripped skinny jeans and black eyeliner. The girl who sang along to Katy Perry and never strayed from the rules is dead. The funeral my mother planned was for her. I was… reborn. A girl who bends some rules and listens to Mayday Parade. To hell with the old me. She wasn’t who I wanted to be.