Thirteen Reasons Why

Betrayal. It’s one of the worst feelings.

It’s hard to be disappointed when what you expected turns out to be true.

Things get better, or worse, depending on your point of view.

my love were an ocean, there would be no more land.
If my love were a desert, you would see only sand.
If my love were a star—late at night, only light.
And if my love could grow wings,
I’d be soaring in flight.

In the end, everything matters.

I wish I would die.
I’ve thought those words many times. But it’s a hard thing to say out loud. It’s even scarier to feel you might mean it.

Because every time something bad happened, I thought about it.
It? Okay, I’ll say it. I thought about suicide.

We both laugh. And it feels good. A release. Like laughing at a funeral. Maybe inappropriate, but definitely needed.

What’s that? You don’t believe me? You’re shocked? Guess what…I don’t care. The last time I cared what anyone thought about me was that night. And that was the last night.

to everyone else you were just a part of the party. But unlike everyone else, you were the whole reason I came.