I’m sorry that you’re scared. I’m sorry that you didn’t get enough good news. I’m sorry about the hard falls, the bruises, the splintering bone; sorry about that first kiss. Wasn’t it a mess? Isn’t it all a mess? A little blood on your dress shirt, a patch on your sweater, and you laugh anyway. You deserve better, everyone deserves better, but this is what you get. It’s not all bad. Sometimes there’s pancakes for breakfast; sometimes someone you love is waiting to kiss you back. Sometimes things work out, and that can’t make you better, but maybe it’ll get you through.