I spend too much time thinking about what-ifs.
What if my dads had never met? I wouldn't exist, and maybe my dad would get married way earlier. He'd never have to be put in danger by getting stuck with a kid who's defective.
What if I'd been there the night Austin died? Maybe he'd still be here now. Maybe my wrists wouldn't be covered in cuts. I never would've given up archery.
What if I'd talked that night to Will? Let go of my pride, instead of keeping silent? Maybe I never wouldn't taken the bottle and never would've done something I'd regret every day of my life.
What if I hadn't gone home that night, if I'd stayed with Eleanor instead? Would we still be together now? She never would've gotten hit. I'd probably be at camp right now, or with her, and not in the loony bin. I wish I could go back to that night and do it again, only this time I'd tell her how I was feeling. I'd tell her I loved her and I'd know it was true, instead of being confused now about what I'm feeling. I wish I could go back to all those moments I messed up, all those times I'd hurt people. Maybe I'd be a little less prideful, a little kinder. And a little smarter. I'd never make those mistakes the second time around.
