It was her way of saying, "You should kill yourself.

Who becomes you? No one. No one should become me. When I die, I don't want my body or soul inhabited. I wouldn't wish me on anyone.

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

You still have," I looked at my watch, "twelve seconds to change your mind. Find someone else and save your reputation." One side of his lip cricked up. "I found you. I'll take my chances.

That same piercing screech in her voice every time at the hospital. "Do something!" When I slit my wrists. "Help her!" The last time too. "Somebody help her. Help us!" You're helpless, both of you. All of us.

But I'm no hero. I had to keep my dirty little secret. The worst sin I committed was holding it in; letting the secret blacken me.

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