“You will understand soon enough. You will see the world through his eyes. You will make the same choices you hate him for making. You will hurt yourself and everyone around you. You will drink too much and not cry enough. You will break. Again and again. Until you no longer bother picking up the pieces. You will be a monster; a grenade. The worst is yet to come. But right now, you are too young to let the world break you. Chin up, kid.”

I don’t tell her that. `
I can’t.

She has to figure that out on her own. She’ll make it through this day. Through this week. This month. She’ll relive it every time she closes her eyes for weeks to come but she’ll learn to bottle up the tears, throw on a smile and move the fuck on.

Or at least she’ll learn to act like she’s moved on. To silently push through the halls unnoticed. To discretely cover the stripes on her arms as to not draw unwanted attention. She’ll become an expert at pretending to be perfectly alright.

I know she will. Because I did. And she is me.