What if it's not what you thought... it could all be a beautiful lie and you'd never know. What defines you but your memory? What is memory but information? And, what if everything you knew was just only what you're meant to know? How would you ever know differently? Do you think because you are or do you think because you're meant to?
How do you know that the real you didn't die a long time ago and all you are now is a fragment of that ghost?
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"You can't ever find a place that's nice and peaceful, because there isn't any. You may think there is, but once you get there, when you're not looking, somebody'll sneak up and write '♥♥♥♥ you' right under your nose."

-Holden Caulfield