It Must Require Bravery To Be Honest

You're Too Important To Just... Die.

I Wish We Were Alone,” He Says. “i Almost Always Wish That,” I Say.

Yesterday He Told Me He Thought I Would Have To Pretend To Be Weak, But He Was Wrong. I Am Weak Already. I Brace Myself Against The Wall And Press My Forehead To My Hands. It’s Difficult To Take Deep Breaths, So I Take Short, Shallow Ones. I Can’t Let This Happen. They Attacked Me To Make Me Feel Weak. I Can Pretend They Succeeded To Protect Myself, But I Can’t Let It Become True.

And He’s Right To Say That Every Faction Loses Something When It Gains A Virtue: The Dauntless, Brave But Cruel; The Erudite, Intelligent But Vain; The Amity, Peaceful But Passive; The Candor, Honest But Inconsiderate; The Abnegation, Selfless But Stifling.

I Think He Came To Die With Me," I Say. I Clamp My Hand Over My Mouth To Stifle A Sob. If I Can Keep Breathing, I Can Stop Crying. I Didn't Need Or Want Him To Die With Me. I Wanted To Keep Him Safe. What An Idiot, I Think, But My Heart Isn't In It. "that's Ridiculous," He Says. "that Doesn't Make Any Sense. He's Eighteen; He'll Find Another Girlfriend Once You're Dead. And He's Stupid If He Doesn't Know That." Tears Run Down My Cheeks, Hot At First And Then Cold. I Close My Eyes. "if You Think That's What It's About..." I Swallow Another Sob. "...you're The Stupid One.