You really need stitches," she tells me."Or you're going to have a scar." I try not to laugh. Stitches aren't going to help. They fix skin, cuts, wounds, heal stuff on the outside. Everything broken with me is on the inside. "I can handle scars, especially one's on the outside.
I cling to him like he's what keeps me thriving. Because he is.
But we all make mistakes. It’s how we fix them that makes us who we are.
Always ask for the truth. Just make sure the time is right.
I just let the pain take over, allowing it to numb the pain of being left behind.
Stay here, baby" he whispers, like he can read my thoughts. "Trust me, okay? Don't run