Who is Rewa?

  If at the end of my life I have accomplished beyond my dreams and have duly earned the right to be named, to be rightfully AJ, I will be satisfied. Until then, to myself, I will always be as she left me - un named.

  I think I am living a fairy tale, one out of Grimm's fairy tales at times, but a fairy tale none the less. Let me be absolutely clear - I'm happy with my destiny mainly because I don't believe in destiny. In the words of Blair Waldorf, "Destiny is for losers. It's just a stupid excuse to wait for things to happen instead of making them happen." I don't understand why, or how this happened back then. The way I see it, I'm better than 90% of the people around me. If they could be kept by their mothers, what kind of a cruel joke is this world? For a long time I tortured myself in believing I was mediocre, because that might justify being unceremoniously abandoned at birth. Well, one, I am not. And, two, it doesn't.

  Don't try to figure me out, you cannot know me. I'm tired, I'm tired of you - you who never responds to me, never answers me, no straight answers, ignores me, ignores my feelings for you, you in your royal indifference. I'm tired of you - you my friend, who lives on his own planet, who doesn't care about my feelings for you. I'm tired of you - you my closest and now lost friend, you to whom it seems to me that I never had a place in your life. I'm tired. I'm tired of you - you because of whom I am where I am, because of whom I am, because of whom; try as I might, I may never be whole. Because of whom I may always be Rewa but never AJ.

  Rewa, the name given by strangers to the un-named girl child of the unknown mother, abandoned by unknown persons in an unknown street, exposed, vulnerable, who waited alone for her mother to return, to be found, to survive, in the obscure coolness of the night sometime in early April, 1994.

Fuck you.