What possibly defines us? Is it the past? The present? Or the future yet to come? I have spent so many hours, and years trying to comprehend the answer. Did what I went through with my brother make me stronger? I have counted the days since I last saw him. Every single one of them. It's been 1'103 days. A week over three years. Time has passed slowly, things have occurred that most likely shouldn't have, and life had been nothing but difficult. Now the world knows what we did, and life has been near to unbearable being the girl that was raped by her own brother. Having to play along was the hardest part. I don't know what defines me, but I know I don't wish to be defined anymore. I don't wish to live in fear of what will be coming tomorrow anymore, and I most definitely am afraid to face the only person that I love more than anything. I am afraid to face my brother, because I no longer know what defines him. I fear that when I see him again, I will no longer know who he is, or what to say. I fear today more than I have ever feared anything. I fear the present.