i spent my whole life being the girl who had it together and now i'm in rome sitting alone on my fire escape at midnight eating gelato straight from the container and i still don't know what i actually want. i can write a 20-page paper on bernini but i can't figure out why i keep pushing people away the second they get too close. is this the quarter-life crisis or is this just what growing up feels like and nobody warned me it would be this quiet.