I want to be a drug addict, a drinker, a smoker, a partier. I want my life to s***. I want to have nothing to live for. I want to lose my responsibility. I want to f*** a girl. I want to lose my soul. I want to be an atheist. I want to shave my head and tell my boyfriend to f*** off and kill my entire family. I want to SCREAM at my mother and tell her how much she FUCKNG HURT ME AND RUINED MY LIFE. I want my dad to know how much I love him and how angry I am at him for not living longer. I want to hug my baby sister even though I wish she was never born. I want to feel her wiggle in my arms. I even want her to cry for me. I just miss her so much. I want to ruin myself. I want to quit my job and go backpacking in san fransisco. I want to be raped by a filthy, terrifying man. I want to slit the throat of my abuser. I want to bash my head into a concrete wall until I burst through my skull and destroy my brain. I want to cut open my arms and legs and neck and let my scars heal up and look like gills. Maybe they’ll work like them, too. Maybe I can be a fish and swim deep into the ocean. I want to tear open my chest with my bare hands. I want to expose my heart in all its red beating glory. I want to cry and cry and cry and cry and cry. I want to die. I want to RUIN me.

But more than anything else, I want someone to miss me when I finally get that courage to leave this world. That’s why I go to every measure to help my friends. That’s why I try to be healthy. That’s why I don’t scream in my mother’s face. That’s why I pray that my father lives another beautiful day. That’s why I love my fiancé and try to get him to love me back. That’s why I bought a piece of cake for that old black homeless man who always smiles at me on my way to work. Maybe he will remember. Maybe he will miss me.