If I had to put blame on anyone for how my life turned out, I could choose a few people.

I could choose my high school English teacher for introducing me to Kyle in the first place. If it weren't for his tutoring program, Kyle and I would've gone through high school as the sexiest man alive and biggest loser alive, respectively.

I could say it was Kyle's fault. If he was a total asshole, I never would've fallen in love with him. (I would've just lusted after him and caught peeks in the shower room after gym class like I usually did.) But no, he had to be really kind and really funny as well as being jaw-droppingly gorgeous, and make me all head-over-heels for him.

I could also say it was society's fault in general. After all, if there'd been less pressure to be perfect and straight, my life certainly wouldn't be the way it is now..I wouldn't be twenty-four and vaguely suicidal.

The final person I could blame is myself. I fell in love with Kyle, I let him get close to me, I pushed him away.. I could've made him stay.. I could've said something. Done something. Anything.. but I didn't. I let him go. So I blame myself. Not the people I just mentioned. I could've done something or said something to make Kyle stay..

Now? Well, now all that remains is how in the hell to put the shattered fragments of my life back together. And.. and I don't know how. Right now, the only person to blame for all of this is me.

Kyle.. I'm so sorry.