Undone

The thought of going to sleep forever was delicious. I was so very tired.

It’s amazing, the lies you can tell yourself. Even more amazing, the lies you can believe when you’re desperate enough.

They had no idea that normal didn't exist for me anymore. Normal had been smashed on the rocks beneath the bridge.

It's too late. I chose life too late.

To be perfectly honest, it scared me a little. You get so used to seeing the same thing in the mirror every day you stop thinking about what you look like.

I know people think suicide is selfish, and maybe sometimes it really is. But what happened to Kai was beyond what anyone should have to cope with. I didn’t blame him, not really. It just broke my heart that I wasn’t enough to keep him here.

I never lost the certainty that he was the perfect boy. The perfect boy for me anyway. I just tried not to think about it, because it made me ache inside.

Everyone’s got secrets, Jem. It’s what makes people interesting.

Has this version of me been lurking there all along, somewhere deep below the surface, biding its time, waiting for its chance to make an appearance?

Kai, are you sure you’re OK? You’re acting a little weird.’ He kissed me on the forehead. ‘Ah, Jemima! Weirdness is one of my many charms.’ Then he grabbed me in a bear hug and squeezed so hard I thought I might pass out.

Every good story deserves a happy ending – it’s a basic rule of storytelling. The boy next door certainly shouldn’t die.

Une enveloppe fermée promet toujours tant de choses... C'est comme si elle pouvait tout contenir... vraiment tout. Bon, tout, à partir du moment où ça tient dans une enveloppe, bien sûr. Mais la lettre elle-même pourrait tout contenir ! Une déclaration d'amour, des excuses, un "remet-toi vite !". Mes lettres entrent un peut dans ces trois catégories, je crois.

Il me manque tellement. Ça ne devient pas plus facile. Peu importe ce que les gens disent, le temps ne guérit pas les blessures. Il vous montre simplement de nouvelles, et encore plus douloureuses manières de souffrir de l'absence de quelqu'un. Plus cette personne est partie depuis longtemps, pire c'est, parce qu'on commence à oublier son sourire, sa façon de pencher la tête lorsqu'elle réfléchissait, de vous regarder et de deviner ce à quoi vous pensiez. Bientôt, on se met même à avoir la sensation que les souvenir sont étés remplacés par des images photographiques - comme si la seule façon de se rappeler cette personne se trouvait désormais sur un cliché, et qu'elle devenait bidimensionnelle. Et comme ça déchiré le cœur rien que d'y penser, on évite de le faire.

It doesn't get any easier. No matter what they say, time doesn't heal the wound. Time just unravels and shows you new and more painful ways to miss someone. The longer they've been gone, the worse it is. You start to forget their smile or the way they tilted their head when they were confused or the way they looked at you and knew exactly what you were thinking. You can look at them in photos, but it's not even close to the real thing, and pretty soon you feel like your real memories are being replaced by the photo memories - like the only way you can picture them anymore is in one of those photographs. They become two-dimensional, and it rips your heart out whenever you think about it so you really try not to.