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To those walking the edge of the roof, don’t do it. And to those who make them, good luck surviving yourselves.
“What’s selfish is to demand another to endure an intolerable existence, just to spare families, friends, and enemies a bit of soul-searching.” David Mitchell, Cloud Atlas
If scars tell stories, I have none. No bumps, valleys, or grooves. No blemishes to remind me of the damage I have caused. My skin is a liar. It is smooth. Unmarked. An empty canvas. One day, my sins will catch up to me, and when I die, it will be with a scar.
I feel like your soul and mine are made of the same stuff. The black slug. You make me hopeful, but that’s the last thing I should be. Let me know what you think.
The more I think about it, the more I realize I don’t want to die before I fall in love. Before I lose my virginity. Before I make up with Leah. By the way, I cried when the spider died. More, please.
“This is not the beginning of something,” Kellan warned. “If anything, it’s the end.”
Adolescent love is the greatest pain of all. It teaches you the power other people have to destroy you.
“Bet you all the pennies in your cheap little purse that I can make you drip cum on my face in less than ten seconds—before I even use my tongue or cock.”
Here’s a life lesson I’d never wanted to learn. Our secrets are nothing but a string of memories we wish to forget.
“I wasn’t concerned about your sex life because you were a patient,” he said casually. “I’m concerned about it because I want to fuck your brains out until you lose the ability to walk straight. Unfortunately for me.”
I want to kiss you hard. To let you rip me to shreds with your hands and tongue and words. I want to tell you the whole entire truth and hold you while you come to terms with it.
I realized, with depressing clarity, that she wasn’t the venom at all. She was the antidote. But the quantities were all off.
Suicide is a war of two fears—fear of death and fear of the thing that pushes you toward it. The stronger side always wins. And if you lose, the penalty is death.
Once a year, for a stolen hour, I let myself be the venom. The toxin. The thing that poisoned her. But with one momentary lapse in selfishness, I pushed her away. I’ve regretted it every day since. For the first time, I saw Kellan. The thing that made him breathe and bleed. Me.
“Pain is growth. Fear is risk. You can’t be happy if you’re not growing and taking risks.”
“I hate you for knowing Kellan wanted to kill himself and keeping it from me. I hate you for not saving him. And most of all, I hate myself for still wanting you.”
“There’s no excuse. We met on Valentine’s Day in eighth grade. I went to St. Paul’s roof, where I found Kellan. He was about to jump. I yelled at him to stop, and he did. We talked the rest of the night. Ended up making a pact to check up on one another on the same day at the same time every year until we graduated.”
“I thought I had it under control. Actually, I lied to myself that I did. I think, deep down, I knew I didn’t, but I was too consumed with my own issues and too hesitant to take extreme measures to help Kellan. Eventually, I tried. I talked to him at school, but he humiliated me in front of the other students. I went to the principal and wrote a letter, but whatever she did, it made Kellan madder. I texted him, but he blocked my number. I showed up in front of your house and waited for you for hours, but Kellan called the cops to kick me out.”
“No, he didn’t. But it shouldn’t have stopped me. I kept trying, even after that, but nothing worked. I guess… I know I tried. Hard. But I also know there were more things I could have done. I should have tracked you down and told you. Forced you to make him get help. Maybe sought out Terry. He’s rough around the edges, but I know he would’ve at least helped me get in touch with you. There were so many options, and I didn’t do enough. And then I lied to you about it when we met and I had the opportunity to come clean.”
“You’re Leah in this situation, Tate. I wanted to blame you to make myself feel better, but the truth is, you didn’t know. You had a moody teenager pushed onto you by a father who was never in your life. Yet, you fed him, housed him, and did your best to raise him. You had a demanding job, which was necessary in order to afford caring for Kellan.”
People fall in love every day. Good people. Bad people. All the colors in between. They love fast, and hard, and deeply. And sometimes, they are lucky enough to be loved back.
