"To tell you the truth, I'm afraid of labels. I've never fit in any group which is something I was never used to.

Of course in primary school all the kids seemed the same but I was always uncomfortable. The girls played with the girls and the boys with the boys. I didn't want to play with dolls or shit like that. I didn't want to have petty arguments over skipping. I wanted to run with the boys, they had a much simpler and oddly enough, a more sensible view on friendship. You can play if you can keep up. Which of course I could. I wasn't afraid of falling over or getting muddy. I just wanted acceptance into a group. Needless to say all of my friends were boys when I was younger.

I was kind of a femme-tomboy when I got to my all-girl middle school. It seemed like everyone had grownup in the summer between schools. Everything has just passed me by. Mum had been depressed because she'd split up with her last shit of a boyfriend, he'd left her to go and live with another woman at a communal caravan park in Cornwall, Bastard. There was nothing I could do to help, so I stopped trying. It seemed like everything was shit in my life, there was absolutely nothing to hold onto.

No dad, a ghost of a mum, no friends and only the hatred for everyone was left.

I was never a nerd at school; I was too opinionated and rebellious to be part of that group. I wasn't a popular kid either, they didn't interest me. I was one of the drifters, ignoring everyone who attempted friendship with me. I would only be let down and hurt when they left me.

I heard 'dyke' a lot, even before most kids knew what it meant, it was muttered under people's breaths when I argued against people's opinions in class. I hated it. I've always been secretly unsure of myself, not that I'd show it of course, but being called names was slowly destroying the little self-confidence that I had left.

I suppose it was around year nine that my mum started to pull herself out of her arse. She started letting people into our home, inviting them to invade our privacy. I'm guessing it made her less lonely, having people around. The saying "...You feel most alone when you're in a crowd..." is so fucking painfully true. Mum had no time for me and none of the lodgers wanted anything to do with me, after all I was the moody teenage daughter of the greatest sap in the world, Gina, giving away free food and free accommodation.

She bought me a bike, smiling as she gave it to me as if it made up for the previous years of neglect. She announced she has got me a part-time job as the post office delivering letters on my bike.

That's where I met Jerry or Jez as he asked me to call him. Tosser.

It was odd, I'd found guys attractive before but I'd never been attracted to them, but he liked me, I was flattered, he asked me out and I didn't see any harm in saying yes. I couldn't be hurt if I didn't like him.

It was a shame, he liked me a lot, we'd been seeing each other for a while and I wondered if I should just sleep with him. I was hoping for normality. I didn't want to be like the girls from school but I wanted what made them happy. I wanted confidence.

I ended it quickly; I'd known there was nothing there from the few drunken fumbles we'd shared. It wasn't fair on him, so I let him go.

I was so close to rock bottom when I made my first friend at middle school, Hannah. She'd joined in year ten when we were fifteen. She had a cousin at my school already who was a complete bitch, her name was Kelly. Kelly and her best friend Katie Fitch, the queen bitches of our year group.

I hated them, which is why I was so hesitant about going to one of Kelly's Saturday night parties.

Hannah had invited me and she'd asked me with such a desperate look on her face that I couldn't refuse.

So there I was, at this party, standing in a corner with a glass of cheap Lambrini. Half the people were drunkenly dancing to the Sugababes or something. To say I felt out of place was an understatement, but then again I was used to it.

Hannah found me and together we shared a bottle of vodka she'd swiped from her brother. I went to find more vodka and when I came back she wasn't where I'd left her. I searched around and found her sucking on the face of this college boy who had his hand halfway up her skirt. I left her to it and went into the garden of the house and sat by the pond out of sight, sipping on the bottle I'd found.

That's when I saw this girl. I knew her from school. People said she looked identical to her twin, Katie Fitch, but I couldn't see it. Normally overshadowed by her sister she was a silent drifter. Just like me. This girl looked out of place but still managed to exhume an air of confidence. She scanned the garden as if looking for something. Then her eyes settled on me. She saw me. You saw me Emily. It wasn't love at first sight, but there was something there.

You sat next to me, and we talked until the bottle was empty and people were passing out on the ground. I can't remember what either of us said. You leant in and I'm sure I'd never been so scared in all my life. It wasn't a kiss; it was a lifeline you were giving me. You gave me hope and I didn't want it. Thinking this didn't stop me from being fascinated by how perfectly your lips fit mine. We were both drunk, it was clumsy and awkward but it was comfortable and heart-racing. You saw me. Then she saw us.

Katie pulled us apart and screamed at me, Hannah stood behind her looking disgusted. Katie was in my face and neither my friend Hannah nor you, my red-haired beauty stood up to her. Although I forgave you, the look of guilt on your faces broke my heart and solidly bricked it back up. Never again I told myself. Never be hurt like that. How could you be that stupid? You know they all crush you in the end.

I dealt with it, got up and carried on with my life.

You know the rest Emily. We met properly a few years later. We fell madly deeply in love. You always knew me. You made me feel again, and partially replaced my trust in others.

It was strange, it was a feeling I didn't understand and I never will. Please, believe me when I say she was nothing. It was never about her, I used her and I feel so painfully guilty for it. I slept with Sofia because I was scared. You're right, I'm always scared, but only since I've been with you. I've never wanted anything more than you. I know you'll understand, but maybe not forgive me when I say that I did it because I love us. I did it because I was so sure that if you left me like everyone else has, that it would destroy me. But I destroyed us anyway.

I can't handle being alone after having you in my life. We would never be the same if we got back together.

All this, my life story, I'm not telling you it for pity. It's just so hopefully you'll understand. This wasn't your fault. I'm defective, I could never let myself fully love, and by doing that I was giving you second best. You deserve the best and only the best. So I'm letting you go. I'm letting myself go.

I only wish I could've loved you enough.

Forever,

Naomi."

Emily placed the letter down and sat on the kitchen floor. It wasn't the first time she'd read Naomi's suicide note.

The police had found Naomi's body, by a lake they'd said.

The redhead didn't cry. Although she was broken inside, although she knew she was now also defective, although she knew she'd both love and hate Naomi forever, it wasn't important because at least she understood.