all the bright places by jennifer niven
self harm mention.
“i’m still feeling kind of under the weather.”
“let’s talk about you. i want to know how you’re feeling.”
“have you thought about hurting yourself?”
“it’s okay to laugh, you know. the earth’s not going to split open.”
“please call me back. i’m worried. i’m sorry. i love you.”
“i’m eating breakfast. the most important meal of the day.”
“how are you sleeping? any bad dreams?”
“i kept your secret; you keep mine.”
“where did you get that scar?”
“after that, everything went black. i woke up three hours later in the hospital.”
“my only concern is you.”
“let it out, all that stuff you’re carrying around.”
“i’m just tired. i think i’ll go to bed.”
“nothing that happened is your fault.”
“just be careful with that heart of yours.”
“you don’t need to check up on me.”
“listen, i’m the freak. i’m the weirdo. i’m the troublemaker.”
“it’s okay. we’re okay. we’re all okay.”
“i can’t promise you i’ll stay around, not because i don’t want to. it’s hard to explain. i’m a fuckup.”
“i get into these moods sometimes, and i can’t shake them.”
“i’m sorry you’ve had to deal with this in your life.”
“first of all, kiddo, you are good at many things, not just one.”
“everything okay with you?”
“the bad news: surviving this will be the second worst experience of your life. the good news: the worst is already over.”
“break something. smash something. throw something. or scream. just get it out of you.”
“better to keep the unhappy, mad, bad, unpleasant words separate, where you can watch them and make sure they don’t surprise you when you’re not expecting them.”
“a perfect day. start to finish. when nothing terrible or sad or ordinary happens. do you think it’s possible?”
“it’s like i’ve got this angry little person inside me, and i can feel him trying to get out. he’s running out of room because he’s growing bigger and bigger, and so he starts rising up, into my lungs, chest, throat, and i just push him right back down.”
