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So what if they don't like you?So what if they don't like you?
You shouldn't be hurt.
You shouldn't do the things you've done to yourself.
What does that bring?
It just brings the blood, the pain...
That's not what you really want.
You say you want to die, to end it all...
But that's not what you really want.
How would leaving forever make things better?
You say it'd be better for everyone else.
You say it'd be better just to leave our lives.
It seems that no matter what I, or anybody else tries to do, you still believe that you should die.
You know we care.
You know how much you mean to us.
I don't know what I'd do if you ever left.
I know sometimes I might not act like it, but I really need you.
I want to help you, I really do...
But you're not cooperating...
You never tell me the whole story...
How am I supposed to help if I don't know what's going on?
I need to help you
You deserve to live just as much as anybody else does
And I want you to stay alive...
I need you to stay alive...
Teenage TaoismGiving birth is the closest I’d ever felt to dying.
Before that, my near death experiences had consisted only of my silent announcement of pregnancy—silent, being that my social media accounts were all deleted almost simultaneously and I never returned to school in the fall, saying without really saying that I had caught the malicious disease of “teenage pregnancy”. I’m sure the whisper spread in the hallways like the Bubonic Plague. That September, sitting at home on what would have been the first day of my senior year, I imagined friends I’d never talk to again saying “she was only seventeen, and so full of life!” at my absence in the cafeteria tables, as if they were attending my funeral instead of talking about me behind my back.
"Full of life," I had snorted then, folding a never ending stream of what had once been my own baby clothes. "Literally."
I walked around like a zombie for the months of my pregnancy, deciding t
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