Five.

Almost five years. Five years of coping. Five years of sacrifice. Five years of fighting for a legacy. Five years of fixing. Five years of crying. Five years of believing what was most available. Five years of defending honor. Five years of being my mother's significant. Five years of growing up alone. Five years of taking care of everyone else. Five years of getting stepped on.Five years of being the man of the house. Five years of being an adult at 14. Five years of fake maturity. Five years, no dad. Five years, and I still miss him just as much.
Five years of learning to use my voice. Five years of being stronger. Five years of not needing anybody. Five years of learning who I am. Five years of learning what was best for me. Five years of growing out of the wreckage.
Five years, five years, five years. I never thought I would be here, I never would have guessed I would have made it. Five years spent being me, and this anniversary will not be a catalyst for change. Five years ago was. I will forge on. Five will become, ten, twenty, fifty. Fifty years of being me.