Friday, 18 December 2015 

“I wish I had met you sooner. If you were mine when I was 14 I never would’ve fallen for that boy in my chem class and cracked my head open on his chest. I couldn’t see straight for 3 weeks after that. And maybe if I had known you since I was a little girl I never would’ve gotten sad enough to cut myself, a tick mark in my skin for each time my mother cried. And if we had met two summer’s ago I probably would’ve been asleep in your bed instead of in my big sister’s car when she crashed it and I could’ve twirled my fingers around your hair instead of pulling the strings out of hospital blankets. If we had met just a few months sooner I’d probably never know the taste of too many pills because my mouth would be too busy telling you that I love you. I know that people can’t save you, I’m just saying, I think that if we could go back in time, and kiss before the night the fire in my bedroom washed away the blood stains on my carpet, I wouldn’t know what it’s like to mean it when I say I want to die.”