I don’t know what’s worse, the fact that I’m dying or the fact that no one knows.

Sometimes I feel the courage to walk up to someone without a smile on my face. I would look them in the eye and tell them the truth: I’m dying. I would tell them about the cuts on my leg and about how starving makes me feel better than anything else. In an instant, the courage is gone, and the smile is back on my face. How could I hurt them like that?