i wanted to be better for him and now that he's gone i have no reason to be anything other than what i am. he made me want to be better, but i let him slip like sand through my fingers, not realising what he meant until it was too late.
even now i don't know if i loved him, or if i just loved the idea of loving him. or perhaps more accurately: i loved the idea of him loving me.
but it's over. today i try and be strong. i go downstairs and spoon mouthful after mouthful of cereal into my unwilling body. i make a new pact.
tomorrow i will put on my grey-blue dress and be alice.
this is your last chance to save me. hurry. it's almost too late.