her words.

part fiftythree

Celeste,

I left you for last because this is the part where you can finally relax.

I love you, you know that? You're amazing and beautiful and all the things I wish I could be.

I hope its not too late for you to read this. I don't want you to miss me. I want you to understand that I'm stupid. I did what I did because I was stupid. There's no going back. I'm sorry. Life is beautiful, okay? Never forget that. Take advice from the dead girl.

There's always gonna be promise for you, though. You have the chance to make yourself great. Find happiness. Okay?

I was really planning on making this a lot longer. You're my best friend after all, but I don't think enough words could some up what I have to say.

I'm jumping all over the place so lemme get to the point. I don't want you to blame yourself. If anything I want you to blame me not anyone else. This is my fault. My problem. Not yours. I'm in some deep shit that I can't even explain to you.

Like I said you're gonna graduate and have a career and start a family and all of that. I promise you will. I'll be there with you through it all. I promise. Just think of me whenever you see something...I don't know just look at a cloud or something and think of me. I'm there.

I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

I love you, Celeste. Don't you ever forget that.

~Aimee.

PS. If you and Gabriel don't end up together I swear...

I sigh and wipe a few tears away. I even chuckle a little bit at the last line, reading it in Aimee's tone. I close the journal and sit back for a second.

This chapter of my life is over, I realize. I'll always remember it once I turn the page, but this is something I have to leave behind.

I decide I have to call my mom later. I have a lot of making up to do.

I think I might call Gabriel later too, if I can.

But first, I decide I must see Aimee's grave one last time. Not because I'm still stuck in the past, but because I'm telling her I'm moving on. Not forgetting, just moving on.

I step outside and look up in the sky. I see a cloud.

Just think of me whenever you see a cloud or something.

So I do. But not the sad, tortured girl from the journal. The spunky, sarcastic rebel that I knew. The girl who lived. The girl she wanted me to remember her as.

I have a lot of learning to do, but I suppose if I try hard enough I can teach myself that life is, in fact, beautiful.

Even if it has a funny way of showing it.