Author's Note: Here's the final chapter, everyone (finally, I know)! Thanks for your patience and continuous support. I hope you were able to enjoy this story, and thank you to the anon who requested it. Stay wonderful, and you'll be hearing more from me soon!

Depression has a way of knowing when to hit you the hardest. It's usually when you're starting to get back up again.

"Be patient and understanding, but if there's a problem, I'm a phone call away," Dad says to Madeline as he's leaving, and Amelia knows she's not supposed to be hearing their conversation, but she can't help eavesdropping. She deserves to know when she's being talked about.

She's not ready for Dad and Papa to leave. They are an emotional crutch she didn't know she needed.

"You guys are coming to my race next week, right?"

"Oui, of course. We wouldn't miss it," Papa says, and Amelia wonders why she hasn't been informed of this upcoming race yet and when Maddie planned to tell her about it. What if she's not invited?

No one told you because no one wants you to come.

She knows that voice in the back of her head isn't making any sense again, but it does a lot of damage anyway. The day after Dad and Papa drive off into the distance, Amelia is stuck in the fog yet again, aimlessly wandering through it and trying to fight her way out. She skips breakfast, and then lunch. She doesn't get out of bed. Maddie asks her if she wants to ride Maple or come help her with the horses, but she's not in the mood.

"You're not doing yourself any favors by lying around doing nothing all day," Maddie says.

And Amelia can't stop herself from snapping at her. "Thanks for stating the obvious."

"Don't get upset with me. I'm just trying to help."

"You're not helping. Go to the horses or whatever. You're more interested in them, clearly."

"Amelia, stop. Why are you being like this?"

"You didn't even tell me you're competing next week."

"I didn't want you to feel pressured to have to come."

"You're lying."

Venomous words keep coming to her. Spewing hurtful words takes away some of her own pain, if only for a couple of seconds. She knows she needs to control herself and apologize to Maddie, but why is it that the only way Maddie wants to connect with her is through her horses? Why should Amelia have to take an interest in them on her behalf? Maybe she doesn't care about barrel racing or Maple or Kuma or anything. It's not fun to her anymore. Nothing's fun. Fun is a word that doesn't exist in her vocabulary.

The bed is safe. It's where she can hide under her pillows and block out the rest of the world. No one can hurt her under the warmth of her cotton blanket. She can stay here as long as she needs to. Stay until the world stops turning...until everything stops and there's peace and quiet and—

There's a knock on the bedroom door.

She expects to see a sheepish Madeline come stepping in to apologize or have a heart-to-heart, but instead, it's Gilbert. He's in a dress shirt and a red tie because he must be going off to meet with a client. From the discussions she's overheard between Maddie and him, he's working on a pretty important homicide case, and if he wins, it could really help solidify his reputation as a good criminal defense attorney.

"Hey," he murmurs, staying in the doorway—almost as if he's a little afraid of getting too close because it might set her off.

She manages to sit up and reply, "Hi."

"Maddie says you haven't eaten anything all day..."

"If I eat something now, I'll puke."

"That's not good...Your dad left some kind of medication for you to take if your stomach feels queasy. Want me to bring it for you?"

Amelia shakes her head. It's hard to explain, but part of her is glad she's suffering. She deserves to feel sickness. "No, it's okay."

"I don't think it is."

"I just need some time alone."

Gilbert shuffles from foot to foot uncertainly. "Uhh...Your dad also said you should try taking the anti-depressant you were prescribed if things started getting worse."

"No, I'll pass on that, too."

"But maybe it'll help."

"Yeah, it'll help make me feel suicidal again."

"You don't know that for sure. I mean, obviously, there are side-effects or whatever, but you need to do something to try to feel better, and sometimes the benefits outweigh the risks, right?"

That's right. Do something, Amelia.

"Gilbert, I really want to be left alone. Maddie didn't have to send you in here."

"She didn't. I decided to come and talk to you myself," Gilbert reveals, sighing a little as he continues fidgeting in the doorway. Even just watching him is making her anxious.

"I want you to get better, too."

"Thanks..."

"Can I ask you something?"

She doesn't like where this is going. "Okay."

"Do you want to get better?"

The answer should obviously be yes, so why doesn't she say it right away? Why does she have to hesitate? Maybe because she knows that if she gets better, she's going to be expected to go back to school and figure out her own life. She'll have to be independent again, which is a terrifying thought because her independence almost killed her last time.

"I don't know," she mumbles.

Gilbert nods his head, as though that's the answer he anticipated getting. "Okay. Well...Let me know if you need anything."

He can't do anything for her. She needs to handle this on her own terms, or else, her recovery will be meaningless.

And right now, recovery feels like it's nowhere to be found.

Since it's summer and the kids are out of school, that means Maddie is home 24/7. She won't go back to teaching high school French until September, so in the meantime, it seems that training for races is all she does.

Amelia wants to be happy for her, and now that she knows Maddie is prepping for a race next Friday, she wants to be able to cheer her on and help her in any way she can, but instead, all she can do is sit in her room and brood. She watches Maddie glide around barrels with Kuma from her bedroom window and hates her sister for being so beautiful and put together. She wants her life. She wants this incredible house, a loving husband, and a career. Why is it that Maddie was able to fulfill her dreams so easily and quickly, while Amelia still can't even manage to eat three meals a day and shower?

She knows comparing herself to her sister isn't healthy, but her depression constantly reminds her of how inadequate she is. Soon, all she can feel for Madeline is a sense of loathing. She becomes a symbol for everything Amelia lacks.

But at the same time, Amelia doesn't want to lose her sister over some dumb rivalry—a rivalry she conjured up in her own head. If she keeps distancing herself from Madeline, it's only a matter of time before she starts distancing herself from everyone else again, too, and she can't afford to do that.

When she talks to her therapist over the phone for one of their sessions, she tells all of this to her. She explains her fear of losing her support network and gives voice to every toxic thought that has crossed her mind since she came to the ranch. Talking about it helps her see how irrational she's being and how twisted her perceptions of the people around her have been. Still, functioning remains to be a chore. She goes four days without stepping outdoors, until finally, she convinces herself she has nothing to lose and starts taking the anti-depressants prescribed to her by her psychiatrist.

She tells Maddie and Gilbert that she's been taking this new medication a little too late. They find out the hard way when she randomly starts bursting into tears at regular intervals throughout the day or gets enraged at tiny things like how Gilbert tries to coax her into eating a few of Maddie's blueberry pancakes for breakfast one morning after she already said she was going to settle for some plain cereal. Everything turns into a fight.

Fortunately, as it turns out, these are all normal side-effects, as it can take some time for one's body to transition and react more positively to treatment. Just several days after starting the pills, Amelia begins to feel a little more clear-minded. She's not really better in an emotional sense, but she can get up, brush her teeth, and make her bed at long last, which is at least something.

Maddie is scared of her. Amelia can tell just by the way she avoids looking her in the eyes and how she's always coming up with new ways to skirt around her rather than face her. She stops asking if Amelia wants to come and see the horses. She doesn't say a word unless she absolutely has to.

And for a moment, Amelia realizes her relationship with Maddie has become splintered in the same way her brief friendship with Anya was. Though they are occupying the same house, they're lonely.

The evening before the big race, when Gilbert has yet to return from work and she and Maddie are pretending not to see one another, Amelia reaches her breaking point. She walks into the kitchen as Maddie's preparing dinner, ignores the sound of blood rushing in her ears and the pounding of her heart, and says, loud and clear, "I'm sorry. I love you, Maddie, and I've been a terrible sister lately."

Maddie stops stirring the pasta she's boiling and lets her shoulders roll forward with a heavy sigh. It takes her a minute to accept her apology and turn around, but once she finally does, Amelia can see the crinkles of remorse on her face. "I should be the one apologizing. I guess I had different expectations for what this would be like. I was so excited about you staying at the ranch. I was treating this like it was some sort of vacation or family get-together rather than a time for you to recover and work on your treatment."

"I've just been raining on your parade, and that wasn't fair to you," Amelia assures because she doesn't want Maddie taking the blame for this. Maddie didn't do anything wrong. She's been doing her best, and it's not her fault that she doesn't know how to talk to someone who's depressed because Amelia wouldn't know what to do if she were in her position either.

Still, Maddie shakes her head. "Dad and Papa told me to be patient and compassionate with you, and I wasn't. As soon as things started getting hard, I left you to deal with it on your own, and I shouldn't have done that. I'm supposed to be here for you. Forget racing, and the horses, and everything else. You're my sister, and you matter to me more than anything. I should be devoting time to helping you, not training with Kuma and Maple."

"You shouldn't have to give up everything you've worked for just for me," Amelia argues.

"I should because that's what you do for family," Maddie whispers back, and it's hard not to hear the emotion in her voice. "I've been so caught up in my own world lately...I'm not usually like this, and I don't know why I haven't been able to support you better or—"

Amelia can't listen to this any longer. She snatches Maddie up into a hug and squeezes her. "I'm not an easy person to help," she says with a dark laugh. "I know I made you feel like everything you've been doing has been wrong or that you haven't taken my feelings into consideration, but none of that's true. Depression makes you think crazy thoughts and keeps people from getting close enough to help you. So, please don't blame yourself. I can't stand to see you sad. I can be sad enough for both of us."

Maddie keeps shaking her head, but there's also a small smile on her lips. "I don't want to see you sad either."

"I'm working on it. I promise…Now, come on, let's eat because I'm actually hungry for once, and then we've gotta wake up bright and early for your race tomorrow."

"You don't have to feel obligated to go if you're not feeling well."

"Are you kidding me? Of course, I'm going," Amelia says with a bright grin. "I need to be there for my sister because she's amazing, and I know she's going to do great. Plus, I have to make sure Papa doesn't embarrass you and Dad doesn't have a heart attack."

Maddie laughs, and it's the soft, pleasant laugh Amelia has been waiting to hear over the past few days. "You're right. I need you there."

Need.

That's the word Amelia has been waiting to hear. It means she has a purpose and value, even if the reasons are tiny.

"I won't let you down, sis."

"Why did it have to be horses? Why not dogs? She could have trained them to jump through hoops, and it would have been a much safer alternative to this."

"But mon cher, she's a natural at it."

"She could have been a natural at anything else."

Amelia can't stop the smile that spreads across her lips as she climbs up the steps of the outdoor stadium where today's races are being held. She thought she might have some trouble finding her parents in the ocean of people in the audience, but now she realizes she shouldn't have worried.

"There you guys are! I could hear you bickering from a mile away," she says cheerfully as she gives them a hug and sits in the seat between them—best to keep them separated. It's her job to make sure they behave themselves and don't get kicked out midway into the races.

"You look well," Dad is quick to note. "How are you?"

"I ate breakfast and lunch today, so I'll consider that my achievement of the week. How's your back? Papa told me you've actually been going to physical therapy. I find that hard to believe."

"I'm happy to hear your appetite is improving, and yes, it's true. I'd rather not discuss it while there are so many witnesses around though," he jokes, "but it's been better, thank you."

Amelia nods and decides to switch subjects because if she makes too big of a deal out of Dad actually seeking treatment, he's likely to stop going. "So, are you guys excited to see Maddie race again? It's been a while, huh?"

"Excited isn't among the emotions I'm feeling at the moment," Dad grumbles.

From Amelia's left, Papa snorts with laughter and says, "Arthur, she's been doing this for years. Doesn't that reassure you at all?"

"No," Dad replies without hesitation. "Accidents can happen even to professionals."

Papa sighs. "Yes, but you can't always assume the worst-case scenario is going to happen. Remember how panicked you were when we drove Madeline to her first horseback riding lesson when she was nine?"

"Please, don't remind me. That was the beginning of this long nightmare."

"You're so dramatic," Papa tuts. "Nothing happened even though you were convinced she was going to injure herself."

"And she did injure herself no more than three or four lessons later! She fractured her left arm!"

"It wasn't as terrible as you're making it out to be. Every athlete experiences an injury at some point in their career."

"Which is precisely why I hoped my daughters would never become athletes, but look where we are now," Dad growls, crossing his arms over his chest. "I thought that first incident would have deterred her somewhat, but that was wishful thinking on my part."

Amelia remembers Maddie's first fall, too. One minute, she was laughing and sprinting across the riding pen, and in the span of just a few seconds, the young mare she was handling got spooked by a large bird and threw her out of the saddle. Maddie's hands grappled for the reign, and she managed to half-catch herself and at least slowed her descent. Still, it wasn't pretty.

Fortunately, she had her riding helmet on. She landed with a horrific thump and curled up into a tight ball as her instructor focused on getting the horse calm again before she could harm Maddie any further.

Dad wasn't there to see it with his own eyes. Amelia's fairly sure he was out running errands, which was probably for the best because had he been there, he might have never let Maddie near a horse again.

She vividly recalls Papa lifting a sobbing Maddie into his arms and setting her in the back of the car. He drove well above the speed limit to get home, and because he was preoccupied with zipping down the highway, he entrusted Amelia with the delicate task of delivering the bad news to Dad.

Of course, that didn't go over so well…

"She fell?" Dad had exclaimed hysterically over the phone, making Amelia's right ear hurt. "Did she hit her head? Injure her spine? Can she walk? Is she responsive? Is she bleeding? I knew this would lead to disaster. I look forward to hearing what your papa has to say about this. I told him this would happen."

Before they could even make it to the front door—Dad had quickly whisked Maddie into his own arms and laid her down across the living room couch, where he was able to take stock of her injuries. Her left arm had swelled up considerably like a balloon, and Dad declared that they would be taking her to the ER.

Many tears were shed on Maddie's part, but Amelia got her to smile after asking Maddie's doctor if she could get a purple cast—her favorite color. And so, sure enough, Maddie was sent back home with a plaster cast in a lovely shade of lavender. Not to brag, but Amelia got to be the first one to sign it. She wrote, "Amelia was here," and drew a rocket ship going up to the moon.

Papa signed it as well with "Get well soon, ma cherie. Love, Papa," before adding a bunch of hearts and flowers.

And once Dad had finally finished lecturing Papa and Maddie, he scribbled on the cast as well by doodling a bunch of little bones in a row and adding a caption that read, "One down, 205 to go. Lots of love, Dad."

From that point on, Maddie proudly flaunted her cast as a well-earned battle wound, and as soon as her arm has fully healed, she began pestering Dad and Papa to let her go horseback riding again.

And really, by that point, there was no stopping her.

Thus, that's how they ended up here, in this stadium, waiting to see Maddie prove to them yet again what a good barrel racer she is and why no one can stop her once she sets her mind on something. She's tough—there's no doubt about it.

"Hey! What'd I miss?"

Gilbert comes jogging up the steps and plops into the empty seat on Dad's right, armed with food—hotdogs, chips, chocolate, and, most importantly, beer. He hands Amelia a hotdog and offers to get Dad and Papa some as well, but they both decline. Papa's not a big fan of fast food in general because he believes food should be prepared with great care and time, and Dad's just paranoid about getting clogged arteries since he became middle-aged.

"In that case, does anyone want beer? You can't go wrong with one beer," Gilbert suggests instead, tossing a handful of chips into his mouth. His nose and cheeks are getting a little sunburnt from being outdoors. He probably didn't have the foresight to put on sunblock.

"I'm on meds, so I can't, but thanks," Amelia says before snatching a packet of ketchup from the plastic bag in Gilbert's lap.

"Oh, right, I forgot…Arthur? Francis?"

Papa takes him up on the offer this time, and Dad almost does, too, until Papa reaches across Amelia and swats his shoulder firmly. "You took pain medication just an hour ago!"

Dad rolls his eyes. "One drink won't kill me. How else am I going to endure this agony?"

"It's never just one drink with you. You're not having anything, and that's that," Papa declares, and Gilbert seems to agree.

Amelia laughs and turns to look at Dad with a sympathetic smile. "We'll be the designated drivers tonight."

It occurs to her that this is the first time she's been to an outdoor event like this in a while. Normally, this might've given her anxiety, but being here with family makes it easier, and she doesn't feel nervous or overwhelmed. Actually, she thinks she might be having fun, but it's hard for her to say for sure. She was under the impression that she had completely lost her ability to experience it.

A hush washes over the crowd once Gilbert comes back with Papa's beer, a signal that the race is about to begin. They go through the usual formalities and introductions—an overly peppy announcer thanks everyone for coming out and gives some basic safety information about how to exit the stadium in case of an emergency, and then everyone has to stand for the national anthem before the first racer finally comes out.

Amelia's afraid to blink lest she misses any of the action. It's expected that each competitor will finish in under twenty seconds, and so, it's hard to look away for even a moment because that single moment could make all of the difference.

Then again, Amelia doesn't really care about the other competitors. She's here solely for Maddie.

It appears Maddie's seventh in the line-up out of twenty people. Both the third and fifth racers run into hiccups and nearly fall off of their horses. Seeing them stumble suddenly makes Amelia all too aware of how possible it is that Maddie could go through the same thing.

She looks over at Dad, and sure enough, he's tapping his foot anxiously and struggling to decide if he should look away or keep staring at the other competitors.

"She'll be okay," Amelia tells him with a shaky smile. "She's practiced a million times, and Kuma is really well-trained."

Dad rubs his hands over his eyes and nods. "I hope you're right."

The sixth racer plays it safe and finishes within a solid seventeen seconds.

And then, it's Maddie's turn. Amelia's heart starts pounding against her ribcage, and she grips the edge of her seat.

"Madeline Beilschmidt," the announcer booms over the speakers.

"WOOO! GO MADDIE!" Gilbert whoops, standing up and waving his hand at her. "YOU'VE GOT THIS! LEAVE THEM IN THE DUST, SWEETIE!"

Amelia manages a little laugh, and that's when she feels Dad's hand grabbing hers for moral support. Papa goes oddly quiet, and they all have their eyes glued to Maddie and Kuma now, adrenaline pumping through their veins.

1…2…3!

She's off, and Amelia feels her throat constrict with worry. She's not sure what kind of timing Maddie is aiming for, but as long as she has a clean race, that's what's most important right?

Kuma circles the first barrel smoothly, gliding around it and making it look like the easiest thing in the world. The second turn is just as graceful, and then, on the last barrel, he hesitates for just a fraction of a second before twirling around it and bolting to the finish.

"15 point six seconds!" the announcer exclaims.

Amelia has to look at Gilbert for confirmation to be sure that's good, and when he starts freaking out and celebrating, she allows her face to split into a grin and starts cheering and huzzahing as well.

Dad releases her hand and slumps against his seat. "I'm relieved it's over."

Papa, meanwhile, is snapping pictures with his phone and is beside himself with pride. Now, all that's left to do is see how well the remaining thirteen other racers do so they can know where Maddie is in the rankings.

She holds first place on the leaderboard for a good while, until number seventeen finishes two seconds earlier than her and knocks her down to second place, which is where she stays until all is said and done.

And well, second place is pretty incredible, in Amelia's opinion. It's definitely worth celebrating, especially since this was a regional race against competitors from various states. So, Maddie earns herself a silver medal, and gets showered with hugs and praises as soon as they head down to congratulate her and Kumajirou.

"You were amazing! You're too cool to be my sister," Amelia says when she's able to throw her arms around Maddie's shoulders and lock her in a bear hug.

"Kuma did all of the work," Maddie insists, but there's a glimmer of pride and joy in her eyes. "Thank you guys for coming to watch me. I felt way more confident knowing you were all here."

"That's our job!" Papa says.

Gilbert nods and adds, "Yeah, you don't ever need to thank us."

"Congratulations, poppet. You've earned it," Dad jumps in, too, ruffling Maddie's hair.

Maddie's cheeks flush pink, and she takes the silver medal off. After taking a good look at it, she slips it around Amelia's neck instead.

"This one is for you," Maddie decides.

"Maddie, don't be crazy. You worked for this," Amelia protests before making an attempt to take it off, but Maddie doesn't let her.

"No, keep it. I've been thinking about you over the past few days, and you were my motivation for this race, so I want you to have it. Please…"

"I can't accept this."

"Yes, you can. It's your victory, too, okay?"

Amelia sighs, and she looks around to see what Dad, Papa, and Gilbert think about this, but they don't interrupt or make any comments. They're just as stunned as she is.

"Thank you," she says, at last, accepting it.

She's sure of it now—this is what fun is supposed to be like. And the warm, bubbly feeling in her gut?

That's happiness.

A week after the big race, Maddie takes her out for a "ladies' day."

Maddie drives into town and they go out to be pampered and act like princesses for a day. Their first stop is at the spa, where Amelia gets her first facial ever and sits in a mud bath until all of the stress and heavy exhaustion is pulled out of her bones. She starts to feel like she might be okay again—normal, even.

Then, it's time for hair and nails. She doesn't do much with her hair—just gets a trim—but she looks and feels refreshed. Her manicure and pedicure end up being a shimmery sky blue, and as she's waiting for her nails to dry under the purple UV lights, she looks at herself in the mirror hanging from one of the walls of the salon and feels pretty for the first time all year. She can feel beauty radiating like an aura around her, and she realizes she no longer feels the need to compare herself to Maddie or to worry about what her next steps are going to be in life—all of that suddenly seems unimportant. She'll figure it out in due time, and it's okay not to know everything just yet, right?

To finish off their day, they go on a short shopping spree and Amelia picks out a bunch of new clothes for the fall, considering they're approaching the final several days of summer. She can't believe how quickly time has passed.

It feels like she left Los Angeles ages ago.

Unfortunately, the end of summer also means Maddie will be going back to work soon at the local high school she teaches at, and so Amelia concludes that it's probably time for her to head back to the city with Dad and Papa. Leaving isn't going to be easy, but it's a necessary next step. If everything goes well, maybe she can enroll in school again for the spring semester. She's not sure what she'd be interested in studying just yet, but she can dabble in some classes just to get some credits and see if an opportunity presents itself.

"Promise to visit more often?" Maddie asks her on the drive back to the ranch.

"I'll try."

"And if you're ever feeling bad again, you know you can always call me to talk, right?"

"I know. Thanks, Maddie. You've been awesome. I promise not to shut everyone out of my life again. I've learned my lesson. It's going to take some more time before I get back on track, but I really think things are looking up."

"That's so good to hear."

Amelia nods and smiles. She's been doing that a lot lately—smiling.

"Yeah, things are going to be all right, and I have you, Gilbert, and Dad and Papa to make sure of that."

"And yourself," Maddie notes. "You're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

Amelia purses her lips and leans her head on the window. "Yeah, maybe you're right…"

She doesn't have quite that much confidence in herself just yet.

Once she pinkie-promises Gilbert and Maddie that she'll see them, at the latest, by Thanksgiving, it's officially time for her to go home. Dad drives, and though he and Papa get into a brief quarrel over the directions provided to them by their GPS, the trip goes well overall. The relaxing, scenic drive gives Amelia a chance to think about her future plans, and she bears in mind that although things have been better for now, it's entirely possible for her to start slipping again. Recovery isn't a single process with an exact end. It's the usual rollercoaster of ups and downs.

But, she thinks she has a better understanding of how to cope with those downturns now. She's able to catch her dark thoughts more easily, and she can convince herself not to listen to the cynical voice in the back of her head. She doesn't always succeed, of course, but she's succeeding more than she used to.

When they get home that night and she has unpacked most of her things, she sits on the edge of her bed with her legs crossed underneath her and figures it's about time she made a necessary phone call. She scrolls to the top of her list of contacts, stares at the number for a long while, and finally presses it before she can second guess herself.

"Hello?" she hears a confused voice on the other line ask.

"Hey…Anya, it's me, Amelia. I thought I'd check in. How are things going?"

"Amelia? How are things going with you? Everything's good here."

"I'm all right…I've been feeling a lot better lately, but I don't want to talk about depression. I just want to talk about anything—like f-friends do."

"Friends?"

"Yeah, unless you don't—"

"I thought we already were friends," Anya says, and Amelia can hear the teasing smile in her voice. "A lot has happened since you left—a lot of drama, that is. Do you want to hear about it?"

"Of course, I do! Lay it on me, Anya. I'm all ears."

By the time they're done talking it's well past midnight, and Amelia has all but lost her voice, but that's okay. This is good.

She could use a friend.

Her therapist gives her an odd assignment one week. She wants her to write a letter to herself—to the Amelia who was back in Los Angeles and on the verge of deciding that she was going to end her own life.

She goes through multiple drafts and tosses them all out because they sound generic. What is she supposed to tell herself? That life is still worth living? That sounds cheesy and doesn't have any real heart in it. Anyone could say that. She needs to write something that she might actually have been willing to listen to.

She thinks back to the night Dad shared his own experiences with her and tries to imagine what he might write to himself. He'd probably have a lot to say, but that's because there's a greater distance between where he was and where he is now compared to Amelia. Though her mindset has changed a lot over the course of a few months, her life isn't really all that different.

She starts again. This time, she doesn't let herself cross anything out…

…That's better.

"Amelia!" Papa calls from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready!"

"Coming!"

She puts down her pen, takes one more look at what she has written, and decides it'll have to do. This is the opposite of a suicide letter. It's a choosing to live letter.

And she wants to live.

Dear Amelia,

I don't know what to tell you or how to make you listen. You're dealing with what I've already been through, and I know this is going to be hard to believe, but I did make it through, even though you didn't think I would. Wherever you're at, it's not the end. It may feel like nothing's left and everything was all a waste, but that's not true. It's hard to see what's ahead of you when you're stuck in that fog. I know that better than anyone else. Just because you can't find the good in things anymore, doesn't mean good things aren't out there.

You still have a family that loves you. You have your health. You have a roof over your head, clean water to drink, and food to eat. You have your smile and your laughter. You don't have wrinkles under your eyes yet. You can go out and feel the wind in your hair. You can breathe in and out. You can walk and go wherever your feet take you. You can meet beautiful people with beautiful hearts. You can fall in love. You can take a hot shower after a long day and rest your head on your pillow. You can drink coffee, and ask people about their day, and actually care about what they have to say.

Your life is so much more than what you think it is. If you let it stop now, you're going to miss out on the rest of your story. You'll never know what happens next. Everything will just be one big "what if?"

I don't know if there's such a thing as fate or if every person is brought into the world for a reason. I can't promise you that, but I can promise you that there are people around you who love you and need you, and they're going to be there for you when things get tough. Don't be afraid of accepting their help. You matter to them, and that's got to be worth something, right? You have a purpose, even if you're not sure what that purpose is or how big it's gonna become.

Maybe you'll have kids. Maybe you won't. Maybe you'll live in the city. Maybe you won't. Maybe you'll hop in a car and take a road trip across the country. Maybe you'll travel the world. Maybe you'll make some amazing friends that you'll stay close to for years and years. Maybe you'll find your dream job. Maybe you'll be happy no matter where you end up.

Life is hard, don't get me wrong. It's probably not going to get any easier, but we keep choosing to get up every day is because it has its beautiful, redeeming moments, too. Sometimes, it's so beautiful you want to cry, and other times, it's terrible and will put you through a lot of pain, but that's okay. You can learn from the pain. You can choose to grow stronger because of it or you can give up.

I hope you grow stronger.

Love,

Future Amelia