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Dearest,
You can lead a horse to water but you cant make it drink. However, a thirsty horse would be nothing short of ignorant not to take a sip. I know this for a fact because we buried my sister yesterday. she died from dehydration. but take my words not for their literal meaning. words arent always the same as they are on the surface. actually, my sister drown. she drown in all the thoughts she let bottle up in her head. she needed help. she needed to let those thoughts go in a steady stream. a very unpleasant stream at that, but a small flow of words none-the-less. Instead, she let them bottle up until you heard a sudden boom. which sounded simultaniously with the realse of the bullet that killed her instantly. people tell me im crazy when i say i heard the sound of her head exploding just before the gun, but i assure you i heard it. i was there. i watched the whole thing. yet i did not cry. i knew she was miserable, i knew she needed help, but i also knew she was too stubborn to accept it. so as i walked into the room and saw her with the pistol in hand she whispered, "Thanks so much for being here now." In the softest and most hoarse tone ive ever heard her sing-song voice make. but just before she pulled the trigger she smiled. That i was sure of. And i knew for the first time in her life she was truely happy.

people come up to me and ask me if i regret letting her slip away from me. and everytime i say no, because i know she was dehydrated. In great need of someone who understood.
Sincerly,
a friend

Description
Dearest,
You can lead a horse to water but you cant make it drink. However, a thirsty horse would be nothing short of ignorant not to take a sip. I know this for a fact because we buried my sister yesterday. she died from dehydration. but take my words not for their literal meaning. words arent always the same as they are on the surface. actually, my sister drown. she drown in all the thoughts she let bottle up in her head. she needed help. she needed to let those thoughts go in a steady stream. a very unpleasant stream at that, but a small flow of words none-the-less. Instead, she let them bottle up until you heard a sudden boom. which sounded simultaniously with the realse of the bullet that killed her instantly. people tell me im crazy when i say i heard the sound of her head exploding just before the gun, but i assure you i heard it. i was there. i watched the whole thing. yet i did not cry. i knew she was miserable, i knew she needed help, but i also knew she was too stubborn to accept it. so as i walked into the room and saw her with the pistol in hand she whispered, "Thanks so much for being here now." In the softest and most hoarse tone ive ever heard her sing-song voice make. but just before she pulled the trigger she smiled. That i was sure of. And i knew for the first time in her life she was truely happy.

people come up to me and ask me if i regret letting her slip away from me. and everytime i say no, because i know she was dehydrated. In great need of someone who understood.
Sincerly,
a friend