It used to be in my own mind, I wandering among my memories. At first I tried to sort the good from the bad, and I could see the water in the white porcelain, and I could see the people gathered around in dark clothes, all of them crying, but I pushed those memories away and delved deeper, to the ideas of my future that I stored in my mind. The water and porcelain and the crying people are still there, but I don't focus on that. Instead, I bring to mind the image of a beautiful girl, surrounded by friends, finding her place among people that accept her and perceive her as gorgeous for her personality and not her looks. The memory of the water and porcelain and the sadness fade away and are replaced by this, my own mental sanctuary, where I can stop my self-destruction and heartache and find peace with who I am and who I want to be. I want to be that beautiful girl, surrounded by friends that support her for who she is. And now, my mental sanctuary is my real sanctuary, a tangible thing, no longer only existing in my mind's eye. With my friends I am able to find my little piece of paradise. If it were a tangible place, it would be the lunch table at my high school where we all gather to talk and laugh and be ourselves. We are hidden from prying eyes there and can let our unique, weird sides show and not feel judged. That table is the center of the universe of my sanctuary. It's where I met one of my best friends, and it's where I can feel at home with people I think of as my second family.
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Penana
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