"More than a stunning debut. It is the announcement of a bold new literary voice"
—Stephen Chbosky, author of The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Hi, I know it’s weird to write this letter to myself when i’m not dead. Well, the thing is that even if I’m not physically dead that’s how I feel. Yeah, I feel dead and I’ve always felt this way.
Mey, you should know that there is nothing wron with you, I know you’ve been needing someone to tell you that, and since no one seem to be talking or doing anything around you it’s me who gets to do it. I know that feeling how you feel right now sucks, but you know it will pass, it always do.
I also know you need her because she makes you feel a little bit alive sometimes, and she makes you smile and laugh and cry all at the same time. I know she has this power to kill you and then bring you back to life and then kill you again. I know you can’t get angry with her for hurting you because she is so beautiful and you love her, so you get angry with yourself for feeling hurt. I know she doesn’t hurt you on purpose, I know you feel hurt easily.
I know you need me to tell you that everything that happened it’s not your fault, but I don’t know anymore.
Please Mey, don’t be dumb, don’t let her go, don’t let people go, I know people always go away but this time don’t let them. And don’t let you go, because if you do that then you have nothing, and nothing has to be worse than the death that your feeling.

Rembember that you always have me; and remember the even if I say I don’t know I do, I always do.