I mean, sure, the therapy is annoying and the orderlies still scare me and the pills are gross and I hate having to stay here all the time, but I think it actually helped me. Because I can control my moods now, and I got over my dead-thing.
It was during lunch-time, actually, I think. I remember grilled cheese sandwiches. I might have just been thinking about grilled cheese sandwiches and not eating them, but whatever. I remember playing with Blaine’s hair, because he hadn’t gelled it yet and it was fluffy and I liked it, and then suddenly it was all like “oh.” I don’t even know what happened. Maybe it was just the power of his hair.
But I do know that I met a lot of really cool people and made a lot of really good friends here, even if some of them are gone. And even though I might never see them again, they’ll always have a little place in my heart. Except not really, because I’m pretty sure the heart only has four chambers, and they’re reserved for blood-pumping. But you’ll be in my imaginary-heart, the one that’s made up of all my love for you guys.
And I know this sounds a lot like a goodbye, because it kinda is. I mean, not from me because, even though I’m getting better, I still have a long way to go before I can leave. But it’s a goodbye to you, because you’re all not-crazy now (even if we all know you’re always going to be a little crazy-in-the-good-way) which means you all get to go home and when you wake up, you won’t have therapists and big easter egg pills. Just school or work or whatever you want to do in the morning. I think that must be nice, to be free and everything. To play outside whenever you want to, and go get ice cream with your girlfriend or boyfriend, and lay in the sun. So you better enjoy it, because if I ever see you back here again, I’ll slap you. And it won’t be fun.
Love you. Bye.
but i can’t tell.