Dear Counselor, I don't see you often but you see, this mark on my arm stings. I.....I'm afraid to die but I can't resist the urge to peel my skin back and bleed out the pain. Every time I walk out into the daylight I wonder what it would feel like to drain my essence until I dry up like a raisin. Ironic isn't it, I've never really liked raisins. You know I've never really liked the thought of death either....but it connected to me and formed an ancient bridge....old yet stable. I'm sorry to dump this on you but suicide is always a recurring thought for me but I already know that my mother didn't raise me this far on her own to let me slip through her loving grasp. Dear Counselor, how do you do this? How do you listen to my rants and still respond with kindness? How do you look at me as though all that you see is a cracked heart attached to a whole human? Why is heartbreak a necessary requirement in this thing we call life? How do you tell me things are gonna be okay before I can lie to myself about it? Tell me how! So that I can one day do it for myself. Dear Counselor, I miss her! I miss how she would lengthen her hand out to me as if she could touch the oxygen in the air. I miss the way she walked; independence leaking out of her footsteps. I'll tell you something, there isn't anything sexier than a woman who knows that she doesn't need you. I guess I didn't realize that she never even wanted me. I....I feel lost without her. She was my everything. She was the light that casted the shadow over my very being. She was my compass and I went wherever she led. She was my conductor and it feels like I was her favorite orchestra. I spoke mystery and wonder into her and it turned into everything I define as beauty but....I didn't think beauty would translate to my hearts captivity... Dear Counselor, I don't think I love her anymore, better yet at this point it feels like strong infatuation because loving her was the last time I felt alive. And I've been dead for the past week and a half. I'm sorry that all you see now is a zombie that still somehow has a pumping heart. I’m sorry that she is all I can think of......I tried to see if I could get the taste of her out of my mouth but I'm too afraid to rinse my mouth with bleach. I.....I'm scared.....please help....  Dear Counselor, no one came to help....I'm done....the pain was more than I could bear so I guess I don't need you anymore.