WARNING: the beginning is quite upsetting and possibly triggering as there are mentions of self harm and suicide. If you feel uncomfortable, skip to the end of the italics.

~18th June~

Your POV

I don't know how long I cried, I don't know how many times I drew the blade across my wrist, and I don't know how many times I cried out Dan's name. But when the tears stopped, and I sat in a pool of my own blood, and my throat and lungs burned from screaming, I decided to finally do it.

I grabbed the rope I bought last Sunday and walked into the kitchen.

I scribbled a quick note saying how I hated myself, how I couldn't live anymore and how I loved Dan too much to have a life without him.

I placed it on the bench then dragged the rope towards the kitchen sink.

With shaky hands I tied the rope around the sink, then my neck. It itched my skin, but I didn't care. It was going to be over soon, anyway.

I gulped and the tears began to roll down my cheeks. But I wasn't going to give up.

"I love you, Dan."

I leaned forward.

The pain was unbearable, but I couldn't lean back. I was willing to suffer temporary pain than live in pain forever.

My vision became fuzzy and black spots began to appear.

This is it.

But it wasn't. As I began to close my eyes, ready for the Grim Reaper, or whatever happens when you die, my front door shut and I heard the cheerful voice of my best friend, Mark.

He was making his way towards the kitchen, where I was close to death, singing All Star by Smashmouth.

The handle for the kitchen door clicked, and I heard the squeak of it opening.

He stopped singing and cried out.

The cheeriness in his voice had been replaced by horror as he repeated, "no," over and over again, pulling me back and undoing the knot in the rope tied around my neck.

He held me in his arms, his warm tears splashed on my cheeks and he softly whispered to me.

"Stay alive, Y/N. Don't leave me. Don't leave now..."

-

I wake up in a panic, sweat soaking the cream sheets.

I turn over to see a soft face, eyes closed and sleeping peacefully.

My heart rate slows as I smile down at him, my boyfriend.

Although him not being awake to hold me and tell me everything is okay, and that I'm better than I was, I like seeing him sleep. I like knowing he doesn't suffer nightmares of the past like I do.

Knowing I won't get anymore sleep, I get out of bed and make my way towards the kitchen to cook breakfast.

Trying to ignore the sink as much as possible, I brew myself a coffee and take the eggs and bacon out of the fridge.

It's funny, I think back to my life in London, and before the sink incident, and how I'd never wake up before ten o'clock in the morning, now I wake up when the sun rises.

I did that to myself. I gave myself that nightmare I have every single night. I gave myself those scars. Not just the ones on my wrist that will haunt me until they fade, but the scars in my mind.

I shake my head and start snapping the rubber band I wear on my wrist against my skin, trying to distract myself from my thoughts.

The rubber band has become an important part of my life throughout the past few months. It's kind of my coping mechanism.

I know, it's weird, but it works. It helps with anxiety. It helps with depression. And it helps with the pain of the past.

Regaining control of myself, I begin to make breakfast for my amazing family of me and my boyfriend.

~Time skip~

A pair of muscular arms wrap around my waist and squeeze me tight. My heart always drops when this happens. Because I always wonder why these arms are different to long, slender arms that used to embrace me. I shrug it off and turn my head to see my boyfriend's dark green eyes.

"Good morning," he smiles and pecks my lips.

"Good morning, Jase. Would you mind letting me go so I can serve your breakfast?" Jase releases me and walks over to the coffee machine. "Thank you."

"Did you sleep well?" He asks in an accent that I still can't get over.

"Yeah, I guess so. What about you?"

"I always sleep well when I'm with you."

I chuckle and pick up a nearby teatowel, launching it at him. "Shut up."

"What's on the schedule today, Miss Y/NTheLoser. You need a better name, by the way."

"Well, I'm kinda stuck with that name, so deal with it. And Mark is coming around to film a video for my channel and then we're probably going out for dinner."

"Sounds great."

~Time skip~

As I empty my guts out into the bar's toilet, Amy softly pats my back and holds my hair out of my face.

"Mark's a lucky bastard, did you know that? He can't drink which means he doesn't have to have his head in a toilet bowl."

"You wouldn't have to have your head in a toilet bowl if you weren't so sexualy attracted to alcohol."

I burst into uncontrollable laughter, mostly encouraged by the six or more beers I've had.

"You're the other reason he's so lucky."

"Yeah," she sighs. "Now stand up. You better get home."

~

So, maybe I should explain a little bit.

When I left London and came to LA, my life was terrible.

I had to lie to all my friends, except Phil and Tess, and worse of all, my boyfriend. Well... ex boyfriend.

Everything just went downhill when I walked into my new home.

I guess the only good things were that Dan was safe and I happened to have moved in next to my new best friend, Mark, or known by most as Markiplier.

But it wasn't enough. There was this large hole in my heart where Dan used to be and everyday it would flood with guilt and pain.

After a while, I couldn't take it. That's how these scars on my wrist and the nightmare happened.

After the whole kitchen sink situation, Mark helped me get back up on my feet.

Although everything is still stuck in my mind, repeating itself everytime I go to sleep, and I can no longer look directly at a sink or use the words 'kitchen' or 'sink' without violently shaking, life has slowly been getting better.

Mark helped me set up my Youtube channel, Y/NTheLoser, which I was hesitant about at first because of Dan and his fans, but everything turned out great. I now have over three-million supportive subscribers.

Mark also encouraged me to leave the house more, as I only ever left three days a week to work at a Starbucks a few blocks away.

And that's how I met the best thing in my life so far, Jason, my boyfriend. I thought I'd never move on after I broke up with Dan, but then I met Jase and everything changed.

Now, I share a house (which is more like a mansion) with him by the beach where I can watch the most amazing sunsets I've ever seen.

My life may have changed since I lived in London, but it's changed for the better. I'm eating healthier, I actually exercise, I can even drive a car now, and overall I just take care of myself more.

Maybe getting pissed and throwing up in a public toilet isn't a good example, but I swear I'm not always like that.

So, yeah. I've changed. But just because I've changed doesn't mean I've forgotten about my life before. I still miss Tess. I still miss Phil. I still miss all my other friends. And most of all, I still miss Daniel James Howell.