In a perverse way, I was glad for the stitches, glad it would show, that there would be scars. What was the point in just being hurt on the inside? It should bloody well show.

You really need stitches,” she tells me.”Or you’re going to have a scar.” I try not to laugh. Stitches aren’t going to help. They fix skin, cuts, wounds, heal stuff on the outside. Everything broken...

But then, that was the problem with pretty toy stitches. When real life got hold of them, they always tore out.

I’m sorry for breaking down when I should’ve been stitching myself back up