I think about my choice. Either outcome is bleak. If I stay and live through high school, go to college, get a job, what will ever change? This blackness inside will never go away. I don't make friends; I'll always be alone. If I go, at least there's hope of peace. Chance of a new and better life on the other side.

With determination and purpose, I head into the light.

...the man of my dreams is a girl.

I'd decided to write him and tell him to leave me alone. Please, in a nice way, go away, I really can't deal with you.

But she never just accepted me for the way I was.

I'm sorry you don't get it, Mom. Sometimes I don't get why I do the things I do. I just know I wake up every morning and wish I was dead.

She responds by kissing me harder and longer and deeper. She loves me too. She's just afraid.