I haven't really spoken my true feelings about everything just yet. And I surely haven't shown anyone my scars.

I grew up in a small town in England; where the milkman would come to our little cottage every morning and drop by some milk for us to have with our breakfast and everybody knew every soul in the town. You couldn't just walk down the street and absolutely not say hello to every single person you'd see.

Anyways, my name is Veronica. Ronnie, for short. I've never liked Veronica. It's too girly and, quite frankly, plain and boring. I'm now 17 years old. I have two brothers, me being in the middle. I've struggled with depression since I was very young. I remember when I was about 5 or 6, I took my mother's antidepressants because she said that they were magical and she called them her "happy pills" and I guess I was just really really sad. So I of course took them, being that she had said that they make her happy. I looked up to my mother. That was, until she passed away.

That took a tole on me completely. I began becoming antisocial beyond anything, and I never would've thought that I would meet someone like Pj.

I met him on a chilly October day at school. He had a Legend of Zelda t-shirt on, which happened to be my favorite game. He saw me glancing over and excused himself from his friends and walked over to me. "Hey," he had said with his hypnotizing voice. He stared at me with the green orbs that were his eyes. "Like Zelda?" "Oh, I love it!" I said, smiling the biggest I had in awhile. I knew then that I liked him. Even if I didn't know him. I didn't care.

And that very same day, he asked me to come over to his house after class ended. I was wearing a navy blue jumper with a white v-neck shirt and some jeans and boots. Typical for me. We walked to his house, just talking. Getting to know each other, pretty much. I felt a sensation in my hand which was dangling along my side. I looked down, only to see that Pj had placed his hand inside mine. I looked at him shyly and smiled and continued what I was saying, kissing him on the cheek, of course.

When we got to his house, he sat me down and sat with me and tackled me. He grabbed my arm and I winced.

His face turned straight. "What's wrong?"

"Oh..." I stuttered. "I-uh-um.. nothing."

He looked concerned. "What's the matter? Why the hell does that hurt? I barely grabbed it. Let me see your arm-"

"No!" I sat up. "Nobody can!" I started to cry. "You wouldn't understand, you just wouldn't..."

"Darling, oh my darling. It's okay. Show me. I'll love you no matter wha-"

"Love me?" I wipe my face. "How could you love someone like me?"

He gets up, grabs a box of tissues, and brings them over to me. I take one. "It's not too hard." he kisses a tear off of my cheek. "Even if I've only known you for a short amount of time." he smiles and takes my face in his hand. "Let me see. Please. I won't think any different of you."

I hesitate. I didn't ever show anyone my arms. Not even my fingers sometimes, if it was cold enough to wear some sort of ring or glove. "Okay..." I pull my sleeve up to reveal the most recent scars, on my forearm, from the previous night. Pj looks at me and smiles. A tear escapes his eye. "Pj-"

"You don't have to expain, darling." He takes my arm and kisses my scars that are all along the ridge of my wrist. "All you need to do is love me back. And know that I love you. And spend every waking moment with me, and happy. Oh, God, just please happy..." he starts to sob a bit more. "Live with me. Be with me. Stay with me. I need to make you realize that-"

"I'll never leave." I wrap my arms around his neck as he tightly wraps his around my waist and we embrace into a tearful hug.

He kisses the back of my neck. "And I'll make you happy until the day I die. Anything you want that will make you happy, I'll be sure and get it to you." He presses his forehead against mine. "Just..never leave.." he gets his lips closer to mine to where the skin of my lips tickle from the sensation. "Stay." he presses his lips into mine and we share the first kiss that will lead to a million more.

And now, three years later, Pj still kisses my scars every night before we lay down in bed together. I fall asleep on his chest every night while he strokes my arm where I so solemnly cut the skin off of for so long of nights. He will every now and then whisper "Stay" the way he did the first time we ever kissed. He shows me every day what it means to live. He shows me that I must live for him and myself. He shows me my strength. He shows me my weaknesses. He shows me that I HAVE someone to love and somewhere to go in my life, and that path is where I want to be. He is life.

So, how'd you guys like it?! Was it okay? Too fast? Too slow? Ah, I just want to know. xD Thanks for reading, guys! ~Kenzie