Dear Michael,
Ashton is getting worse.
He has a huge bandaid on his arm. He cries every night when he holds me. He cries when I don't eat. I'm scared.
I asked him to take off his bandage. He did. My heart shattered even more when I read the letters he carved into his skin.
Elora.
I held him. A scarred girl holding an even more scarred boy. It felt right. It felt so right that I kissed him.
You watched me kiss him.
And you cried.
And I cried too.
Love,
Elora
