I close my eyes every night and run our story again and again. I imagine us meeting in a different situation every time, I put more words in our mouth, trying to give us a happy ending. Maybe if I wasn't this complicated and you this stubborn e would've worked. Maybe if we tried harder or the aching pain in our chest wasn't devouring our every limb. Now it doesn't matter. The lies ended it all.

about the girl that loved colors almost as much as she loved him. book one of the suicide series.