I always knew, on some level, that I wouldn't live long. It's simply not written in my stars.

When you stand out there," John continues in a hoarse voice, "keep your chin up, all right? Don't let them get to you." "I won't." "Make them work for it. Punch someone if you have to." John gives me a sad, crooked smile. "You're a scary kid. So scare them. Okay? All the way until the end." For the first time in a long time, I feel like a little brother. I have to swallow hard to keep my eyes dry. "Okay," I whisper.

Be true to yourself. But that's something everyone says and no one means. No one wants you to be yourself. They want you to be the version of yourself that they like.

Time heals all wounds. But not this one. Not yet.

I always knew, on some level, that I wouldn't live long. It's simply not written in my stars.

You know, sometimes I wonder what things would be like if I just ... met you one day. Like normal people do. If I just walked by you on some street one sunny morning and thought you were cute, stopped, shook your hand, and said, "Hi, I'm Daniel.

I hope,” he replies softly, “to get to know you again. If you are open to it. There is a fog around you that I would like to clear away.