I won't be alive so I won't care who finds me.

This is my vision-what I imagine I'll pass through on my way to the light. The blue sky, the clouds, the rays of light.

What will I become? Because I won't be me any longer. That will be a relief. I dont want to be the helpless person I've always been.

I don't have to answer. Until you know the question.

What did she see in me? What does she see that I don't?

Who will see you through the darkness? "Me," I key in the answer. "I'll find my own way.

She's still doing it, pushing me into situations I can't handle, making me cope. She knows I can't cope.