Secrets Aren't Safe

Chapter One - Shirley Temples

"When does your life start? Most would say when you're born. When you breathe your first breath and open your eyes for the first time, but mine started with a boy. His eyes looked into mine and my heart started beating. Blood started flowing. I started living not just living. That boy made me and ruined me at the same time.

He had the most amazing smile. One curve of his lips upward and I couldn't help falling in love with him all over again. The way the light reflected off of his pearly whites that he was constantly taking care of was like the rays of sun that blind you when you forget sunglasses. Don't get me started on his eyes. Those bright green eyes pierced into me, not just who I pretended to be. He was trying to see me for who I was.

I'm so mad that I didn't love him enough. I'm so mad that I didn't let him love me. He wanted to, I know he did, but I wouldn't let him into all the parts of my life. Of every bit of Violet Sunderman.

He was not just a boy because that word doesn't give him enough credit. He was so much more than that. He was a brother, a son, a best friend. He was my everything, but he's gone. There's no getting him back and it keeps me up every night knowing I'm the reason why.

My instinct to always keep secrets and push people away is the reason why. I hurt him. I made him believe I didn't trust him. I made him think he wasn't worthy of my secrets. My past. Everyone has a story. He had a story and I'm the reason six letters are plastered across his 'last page'. It's my fault he isn't sitting here telling his too.

And although making mistakes is something that I've gotten used to over the course of my seventeen years, not letting him in is by far the one I regret the most. I've never felt more guilty than when I stood in a cemetery dropping a handful of dirt onto his casket.

It's the worst feeling imaginable. Saying goodbye. It's like the snapping of the last thread of a rope disconnecting or the last petal you pull to be a 'he loves me not'. It's pretty indescribable. No metaphor or hyperbole could ever bring them back. It's pointless to come up with crazy things to attempt to make me feel better."

"It's not pointless, Violet. It will help you cope. Talking helps, even if it's not to me. It helps." Dr. Lewis chimed in from the navy blue chair sat across from me in her office, "Now what else did you write?" I looked at the journal she gifted me when I became a patient of hers and continued reading what I wrote.

"I've had voices in my head that just won't stop. They constantly remind me that I wasn't honest with him and blame me for what he did. I blame me too. If I would've just gotten my act together and been honest with him, he'd still be here. I'd still have the love of my life. It's been over 4 months since he left me and there isn't a day that goes by that the voice in my head doesn't shut up. I can't get a break. I already know I killed him and yet I'm reminded of what I did every day that I'm here.

I know everyone would deny that I killed him. I didn't take the rope and tie it around his neck, but I also didn't give him enough reason to stay. I gave him one reason to go and that was enough for him to kill himself. I'd rather people just let me have it than try to deny it. I need to stop being babied or I'll never get closure, which is something I'm begging for at this point.

One thing I am grateful for at this moment is my family. Through everything with Noah, my family has been very supportive. They've let me have my days, and cry on all of their shoulders. They've bought me ice cream whenever I needed it, but sometimes I just feel pitied.

They've given me a lot of time to think about what to do with my life, which is the biggest thing I could ask for. I'm graduating this year and I have no motivation to go to college or do anything with my life, which is so unusual considering it's been my dream to attend UCLA and study English. It's crazy how losing someone can completely shift your dreams and your passions. I know Noah wouldn't like me putting my life on hold because of him, but I can't help it. Most days it feels like I'm not even breathing. And how do you live without oxygen? You don't.