"You know, I did actually think about dying," Evan whispered out of nowhere. 

I glanced at him and was surprised when the shadows formed dark areas under his eyes; it looked like he had aged fifty years over a span of a few minutes. I longed to reach out and erase the dark bags so that he could go back being who he was, who he was supposed to be. 

He sucked in a deep breath and continued. 

 "My friends used to harm themselves as often as they could with razors, scissors, and even their own fingernails. I tried the razor thing; I almost fainted, which I'm grateful for now. I also tried using my own two hands. I couldn't bring myself to making more than one scratch though. I also thought about just taking pills. I had never felt so low and I did truly want to kill myself, but something always held me back."

He looked at me and a small, nervous smile spread across his face. 
 
"I think it was because I knew I would let you down. I knew my actions would make you miserable. And I also just wanted my friend back. If I would've killed myself, then how would I have gotten back to you?"