I repeat his words in my head. What's going on? What's going on? Oh, well, since you asked, I got a bunch of tapes in the mail today from a girl who killed herself. Apparently, I had something to do with it. I'm not sure what that is, so I was wondering if I could borrow your Walkman to find out. 'Not much,' I say.

How in the world was I alone? Because I wanted to be. That's all I can say. It's all that makes sense to me.

Because no, I didn’t push her away. I didn’t add to her pain or do anything to hurt her. Instead, I left her alone in that room. The only person who might’ve been able to reach out and save her from herself. To pull her back from wherever she was heading. I did what she asked and I left. When I should have stayed.

And what about you-the rest of you-did you notice the scars you left behind? No. Probably not. Because most of them can't be seen with the naked eye.

Because I've heard so many stories that I don't know which one is the most popular. But I do know which is the least popular. The truth.

We didn't get that chance because I was afraid. Afraid I had no chance with you.

That is all that happened. Why did you hear something else?