Found

Prologue

Alexa Laine

I’m not the best person in the world. There’s really no other way to put it. In my twenty-four years of life, I’ve been called some horrible things that aren’t entirely false—spoiled, selfish, self-absorbed, bitchy, slutty, and immature—to name a few. 

Usually people like me, those with a tad more faults than others, have a tragic backstory that gives them a pass to act the way they do. 

“Yes, so-and-so is a lunatic, but he or she was abused, neglected, had bad parents, went through a traumatic event, etc. Said person deserves some grace.” Right? 

Absolutely. I mean, a little understanding for others goes a long way. As they say, don’t judge someone until you’ve walked a mile in their shoes. Or at least, I think someone said that. 

Yet I was raised in a beautiful house in a picturesque neighborhood in Jacksonville, Florida. I had two adoring parents, in a happy marriage, who did nothing but love me. I was given everything I could possibly need—stuff, trips, clothes, attention, and love. I went to a good school and had amazing friends. There wasn’t a moment in my upbringing that was lacking. Nothing that I could pin my faults on. 

Truthfully, I don’t have an excuse other than I think I was born a jerk. That can happen, right? It must be in my DNA. There’s no other reason for my faults. There’s simply no excuse. 

The reality of it all is that most of the time, it was fun. I was a bitch, and I didn’t care. I was spoiled, and it was the best. I only cared about myself because I was awesome. Let’s call a spade a spade—I’m a dick. But the thing is—I don’t want to be one anymore. 

As a teen, I got by on snark and entitled charm. My personality flaws suited my happiness. As an adult…it’s not cool. Real grown-ups, the ones who have their shit together, don’t put up with people like me. 

The beauty of being a human is I have the ability to change—free will. I don’t have to perpetuate the role I’ve always played. I can decide to be better, to be good. Every action is a choice. Some come easier than others. Maybe they’re more in line with a person’s personality. But even the hard options are doable if one makes the choice to do them.

I’m choosing to be different because the life I want requires me to change my actions. Someone else said that insanity is doing the same thing repeatedly and expecting different results. I may be called many things, but stupid is not one of them. 

I want my life to be different, so I must be different. Full stop.

This realization took way too long to come to me. But, when it did, it hit hard.

I didn’t realize how lost I was until I was found. 

It took a trip to visit a friend and meeting a man who made me feel things I’ve never felt before. He made me want to be better, not just for him but for me. He had me craving a new feeling—one of genuine, mature love—the kind that only people who have most of their shit together experience. 

For me, the connection was instant. Once I had it, I never wanted to let it go. But, as was my pattern, I ruined it and didn’t have a choice to keep it. 

If I wanted this kind of love—this level of happiness—I had to be worthy of it. 

I had to change, and I would.

I just hoped I wouldn’t lose him in the process.