Novel & Cerita Who Really Am I

And you have to figure out who you are when you're not alone. He didn't answer for a moment. Then: You're still you. You're still the person who walked into a debate hall and called me out. You're still the person who stayed when I shut down. You're still the person who told me to build what I wanted. That's who you are. That doesn't change because I'm there. She stared at the screen. The words sat in her chest. What if it does? Then we figure it out. That's what we do.

I have my dad, my siblings and most importantly I have my husband who I've been married to for three years and all seven of my babies and Archer and I have wonderful jobs. Three years after the events with Jace and Archer, I'm trying to find myself; what I want in life, what I want to be now that high school is completed. The biggest question that I'm trying to answer for myself is 'what is my sexuality? Am I heterosexual, am I a lesbian, am I bisexual, am I pansexual, am I transgender, or am I asexual?' I know I'm only 21 years old and in theory I still have time to figure out all these questions about my life and the direction I would like it to head but I need answers like yesterday.

Ike’s POV Ike found himself in a bewildering situation, staring at two women claiming to be his wife. His mind was a whirlwind of confusion, unsure if he was experiencing some surreal illusion or if reality was playing a cruel game on him. "Who are you?" he managed to utter, directing his question to the lady standing at the door. "What?" Joy snapped angrily. "You don't know me again? And who the hell are you?" Joy glared at Ada, demanding an explanation.

"Who am I?" He moved in closer, looming over me as the room's shadows grew deeper. "You don’t know yet, do you?" he asked in a tone that was almost tender, as if he were addressing a young kid. They haven't told you who you really are. Your actual family. what your true goal is in all of this."

"Do you ever regret it?" He thought about it carefully. "I used to think I didn't. I told myself I was doing important work, creating jobs, building something meaningful. But lately..." He trailed off. "Lately?" "Lately I wonder if I'm just playing a part too. The successful CEO, the tech mogul, the billionaire philanthropist. Maybe I've been pretending to be someone I'm not for so long that I forgot who I actually am." I reached across the table and took his hand. "So who are you, really?"

I am not broken". Emma and I said at the same time. "AhaHhaaahaaa" that witch laughed and then said," If both of you aren't broken than who is the one which is broken. Is it me? Denying the reality doesn't change it but it'll make you feel better". Emma and I looked at each other and then again to that witch. She continued," One is trying to fight with none other than himself and the other is trying to fight her destiny. Oh, it's so interesting. But remember that the fight with your own self is the harder one. Tell me. Why are you both here?"

“I know exactly who you are. I know exactly who you think you are. And I know why you’re here.” I narrowed my eyes. “And why am I here?” “Because of what you are,” he said, voice low, measured, as though every word was meant to slice through me. “Not what you want to be. Not what Jamal believes you to be. What you actually are.” I swallowed hard, refusing to give him any satisfaction. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m Melissa. I’m me. I’m real.”

"Like no one actually sees me. They see what they want me to be. Perfect daughter, perfect student, perfect everything. But that's not me. That's not who I am." "Who are you?" he asks quietly. "I don't know," I admit. "That's the problem. I don't know who I am when I'm not performing for them. When I'm not trying to be what everyone expects." He's quiet for a moment. Then: "That must be exhausting." "It is," I whisper. He reaches over to the side table, grabs the tissue box, and hands it to me. Our fingers brush as I take it, and the contact sends electricity through me even in the midst of my breakdown.

"From him? Or from her?" "From myself." I lean back in my chair. "I've spent my whole life becoming whoever the room needed me to be. Charming when it was useful. Forgettable when it was safer. I never stopped to ask who I was when no one was watching." "And now?" "Now I'm trying to figure it out. With her. Without the lies." Emilia stares at me for a long moment. "You're in love with her." "I'm choosing her. There's a difference."

“Anything. A truth.” I think about it. Then, quietly: “I’m scared I’ll never remember who I was.” His expression softens. “And if you don’t?” “I don’t know,” I admit. “Maybe then, I don’t like the person I used to be.” I shrug He leans back, studying me. “I like who you are now.” The words catch me off guard. I look away, feeling my face heat and my cheeks turn pink. “And you?” I ask, almost to shift the attention. “Tell me something real.”