Trust. That was what this was all about. If you can't trust the one you love, you don't have anything.

I want to tell them, "Chip, Kim, there is no way to suicide-proof a person.

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.

Yet, when we talked, when we were together, she seemed so familiar. Seemed to know who I was, where I was coming from. She knew me better than I knew myself, I think. She was easy to be with. And I wanted to be with her, like all the time.

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.

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.

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