After my blood stained my mother’s floor, she cried. She cried for days and days on end. She stopped taking calls, she stopped working, she stopped talking.

After my little brother found my body, he got silent. Dangerously silent. Friends no longer cheered him up, and video games were no longer an escape.

After my grandmother outlived her grandchild, she saved face. She lied to world and told everyone the family was moving on. Behind closed doors she resented the world that took someone so young from her.

After the bathroom floor was scrubbed free of what was once me, my dog spent days outside my bedroom door. Whining and clawing at the small gap between the wood and the carpet.

After my best friends heard the news, they all sobbed over each other. Strangers offered them condolences. But soon enough each of them lost the light behind their eyes.

After my name was chiseled in a stone, complete strangers stood over me. They cried for the person they wish they knew, or they person they wish they were kinder to.

After I died at my own hand, ripples ran through my community. Ripples that I didn’t even realize I had the power to create.


Dear Lovely Wife

Dear My Lovely Wife If You Even Exist,

At the age of 17, I can’t say I know who you are, or if I’ll ever get married, but I do know that – if you do exist – you’re probably smart. You’re probably funny. You’re probably far too organized for me. I know you’ll be the opposite of everything I am now.

I hope you’ll love me, and I hope you’ll be honest with me. I know I can be hard to handle at times, trust me, I know. And I know that my life can seem hectic. And I know that at times I disconnect. And I also know that I’m sorry, but I can only hope that you understand who I am.

I can only pray that you’ll love my flaws. Maybe you’ll be one of those girls that calls my odd tenancies “quirks” instead of seeing them as they rough patches they really are. Hopefully you’ll think it’s cute that my sleeping patterns are never inline with the sun. I just pray that you’ll be perfect in every way.

My past is rough, and I know it. Maybe yours will be too. But my pain will mix with yours, and if you love me, we’ll work through life as a team, not as codependents.

Again, at my young age I have no idea if you’ll ever read this letter, but we can all have fantasies and dreams.

I’m Sure I’ll Love You With All My Heart,

Your Future Spouse