I'm good at hiding everything. ~*~ I've known her since we were kids, crushed on her since we were tweens. I was there for her when she was spiraling in on herself, her world collapsing around us. I was there for her when she became famous and loved her since she told me she was depressed and I said, "Me too." I knew she didn't like dating people exclusively, and I knew she was straight, so I didn't tell her, didn't let her know. My depression was worsening, and I didn't want to talk about it, because it felt trivial. My coping mechanisms got worse and I cracked, cutting my skin. I didn't tell her, but I wished I could sometimes. I listen to her music, and it's amazing, but every time I hear her say, "I wanna end me," I cry, and think... So do I. Warning: this contains suicidal thoughts, actions, and tendencies. This fanfiction also contains Lesbians, and queer culture, read at your own discretion.