BrisonsLesFers

I  often  find  myself  wondering  if  this  sadness,  this  apathy,  this  breakdown  and  its  end  result,  I  wonder  if  it's  me.  Or  if  it's  you.  Or  these  terrible  times  that  we've  went  through.  I  wonder  what  the  thing  is  that  caused  it,  and  why  it  won't  go  away.    Everyone  needs  someone  to  guide  them.  Parents,  generally,  are  who  people  look  to.  But  of  course,  as  you  know,  I  don't  have  them  anymore.  So  for  a  little  while,  I  was  kind  of  a  loose  wire.  A  rebel  without  a  cause  who  thought  his  actions  would  affect  nobody.      Honestly,  Amelia,  I  needed  [and  st

Maybe  there's  something  in  the  way  her  hair  falls  just  below  her  chin.  Maybe  there's   something  in  the  way  her  eyes  light  up  when  she  laughs.  Maybe  there's  something  in  the  way  a  dimple  appears  on  her  right  cheek  when  she  smiles  with  her  teeth.  Maybe  there's  something  in  the  way  her  voice  lowers  when  she's  tired.  Maybe  there's  something  in  the  way  she  can  make  my  frown  disappear  whenever  she's  near.    Maybe  it's  all  of  those  things  and  more.  The  way  her  big  blue  eyes  stare  up  at  me  when  I  talk  to  her,  and  the  way  that  she  dances  when  lost  i

  Before  I  begin,  I'll  just  throw  this  out  there  -  I've  always  been  one  to  ruin  things.  If  silence  falls  anywhere,  you  can  make  sure  that  I'll  break  it  in  some  way;  fake  a  cough,  tap  my  foot,  clear  my  throat.  Anything.  I  don't  really  know  what  it  is,  but  I've  noticed  it.  I  break  things  too  easily.  Je  brise.     "Nate?"  Amelia  shakes  my  arm.  I  look  away  from  the  window  where  I'd  pushed  the  glass  from  a  few  months  ago  and  instead  look  at  her  and  her  pretty  face.  She's  sitting  cross  legged  on  my  bed,  short  hair  tied  in  a  messy  bun  and  makeup

Amelia,     I  need  you  to  be  here  with  me  right  now.  I  need  you  to  be  here  with  me  on  this  dark,  depressing  December  evening  as  I  sit  with  the  pills  in  one  hand  and  my  phone  in  the  other.  I  need  you  to  look  out  over  the city  with  me  and  tell  me  that  yes,  you  think  it's  depressing  too,  and  that  no,  it's  not  just  me,  it's  so  definitely  not  just  me,  and  no,  it  won't ever  be  just  me  again.     I  need  you  to  be  here  with  me  to  take  the  pills  out  of  my  trembling  hand.  I  need  you  to  be  here  with  me  to  put  them  back  in  the  jar  in  the  med