Wait - wait a minute.

Those last two lines, they reminded me of something.

When he told me he cared for me, I told him I cared for him too - I cared for him too much. He asked if anyone could care too much. I said...I lose those I care for everytime I start to care for them. I wallow in self-pity, I drown, I fall ill with depression...

That's all because I want to. He's shown to me that life is never truly horrible. You only make it that way by making it hard for yourself. He has had a past like me - he had no family and no friends before he came to Valorn. I had friends. At least I had friends. Some people are just more unlucky than me, and more unfortunate. Yet, I act like I'm in a worse state - that my sorrow is actually more endangering and serious than others'!

So all this time - all these traces of tears in my journal, all my dreams, all my depression - is all caused by me. Not my dead parents haunting me - that's me too. That's a guilty conscience and self-pity that I am too comfortable residing in that I don't try to move on.

Well I'm tired of being like this. I'm tired. I'm just plain tired. This is where I leave my depressed self behind. This is where I'm just me, and I don't care. If my mother comes back with a knife, I will stand straight and look her in the eye and say, "You're not real."

Because my parents weren't like that. No. They loved me and treasured me too much to be like that. My mother wouldn't stab me in the heart with a knife, no matter how many times I ran away from home. See? Again - at least I have loving, caring parents. Or used to.

No. I still do. They live on in my heart. They always will. So will Tara. So will the rest. And so will Valorn.

I'm sorry Ma, Pa. I'm sorry Tara. I'm sorry me. I won't ever inflict so much damage upon myself or upon my friends again.

I have learnt. I have seen.

Today, I will be.