I Take A Slow Sip Of Lukewarm

I Could Picture Life—school And Everything Else—continuing On Without Me. But I Could Not Picture My Funeral. Not At All. Mostly Because I Couldn’t Imagine Who Would Attend Or What They Would Say.

A Lot Of You Cared, Just Not Enough.

Because No, I Didn’t Push Her Away. I Didn’t Add To Her Pain Or Do Anything To Hurt Her. Instead, I Left Her Alone In That Room. The Only Person Who Might’ve Been Able To Reach Out And Save Her From Herself. To Pull Her Back From Wherever She Was Heading. I Did What She Asked And I Left. When I Should Have Stayed.

Whenever I'm Out Late She Makes A Sandwich For My School Lunch. I Always Protest And Tell Her Not To, Saying I'll Make My Own When I Get Home. But She Likes It. She Says It Reminds Her Of When I Was Younger And Needed Her.

Actually, I Love Trying To Figure Out Why Certain Books Become Hits While Others, Which May Be Just As Good, Have Trouble Finding An Audience.