I won’t be alive so I won’t care who finds me.
There’s always a way out. All you have to do is take it.
I shouldn’t have been there. I should never have been born.
That same piercing screech in her voice every time at the hospital. “Do something!” When I slit my wrists. “Help her!” The last time too. “Somebody help her. Help us!” You’re helpless, both of you. All of us.
You won’t know until it’s over. You won’t find me in time.
I didn’t tell him. And I never told her the whole truth. What would it matter? There was nothing she could do; nothing anyone can do or will do.
Because no one can be trusted.
I have no intent. I have no reason to live, that’s all. When I’m gone, I don’t want to be remembered.
But she never just accepted me for the way I was.
Why are people so cruel? What did I ever do to them?
Our eyes met across the crowded room, like in the movies, except we didn’t share a knowing smile and race into each other’s arms. Instead I fell into the trash can.
It was all about hate. There should be laws. We’re there laws? Can you legislate against hatred?
His eyes are like a telescope. I look into them and I’m transported across the universe to a world I’ve never been.
She responds by kissing me harder and longer and deeper. She loves me too. She’s just afraid.
What can happen in a few minutes changes you forever.
Me? I had no dreams. No longings. Dreams only set you up for disappointment. Plus, you had to have a life to have dreams of a better life.
I’m scared. What will tomorrow bring? It has to be better than today. It has to.
Miracles don’t happen. You make them happen. They’re not wishes or dreams or candles on a cake. They’re not impossible. Reality is real. It’s totally and completely under my control.
Sometimes I felt as if there were no tomorrows, that everything, my whole life, was crammed into one long day. A continuous stretch of meaningless time. Sometimes I even wished there was no tomorrow, if this was all I had to look forward to.
Sometimes I’d catch myself looking at my reflection in windows and wonder who I was. Where I was going. Then the image would change and it wouldn’t be me, just some nebulous shadow person.