I am not naïve. I am not weak. I am not stupid. I know that people are hurting. I’ve seen it. I may not drink or have sex or smoke pot, but, my dear friend, do not be mistaken. I know it happens. Why do you look down on me? Why do look at me like a child when, in fact, I am older? It’s almost like you pity me. You pity my lack of recklessness. Well, I am afraid that palace you have built will fall. You will no longer feel like you’re on the top of the world when you wake up with a splitting headache and a few sparse memories you regret. I may hate myself for letting my teenage years pass me by. I may even hope for a another chance. I will, however, never hope that I am like you. I will never wish for your condescending glare or your harsh tongue. Do not treat me like a fragile piece of cracked china. A piece that could break with the slightest touch. Look at me as an equal. An equal with different experiences and a different past, but a fellow human being none the less.