dear whoever is reading this, hi, im hayley grace i've written a lot of letters in my life. some were meant to be read. some i'm very glad nobody ever had to. this book is sort of a letter too. there are three days inside of it... yesterday, today, and tomorrow.  yesterday was the house i grew up in. i learned my father's footsteps before i learned how to tie my own shoes. i learned when to take my little sister upstairs, when to stay quiet, and how to tell what kind of night it would be by the way the front door opened. everyone said i was mature for my age. but nobody asked why i had to be. today is the parts of me i don't usually like to talk about. i drink most weekends. i go out with my friends. i laugh at 1 in the morning and make sure everyone around me thinks i'm having a really good time. i'm very good at pretending. so good, that one night, i sit down and write ten goodbye letters. but i only finish nine. tomorrow is the letter i never finished, it's when my sister knocked on the door. the dog wouldn't stop barking. and the laundry had to be moved to the dryer. nothing extraordinary saved my life. i just kept putting off dying until i accidentally started living. and if this is the last thing you read from me, remember: a permanent solution to a temporary problem is never worth it. and if you decide to keep reading, see you on page one. "not enough people understandthat depression isn't alwayswanting to die. sometimesit's wantingto want to livethe way everyone else seems to. "- from the morning after