You're one of the most amazing, beautiful girls i've ever met, and i couldn't believe it.
"Elle pourrait mourir".
I didn't know what to say. Your father told me you might die, when just a few days earlier i'd been planning to see you on my trip to Montreal.
I saw you on Sunday.
You're just not the same.
I could still find the same bubbly, loving, beautiful Florence inside of you... but it took a lot of searching. You look different, you act different, your voice is different, your face is different. You're just different. And i know i would have been naive to think otherwise, but it just scared me.
I know you'll live, i'm sure of that now. But i know you'll never be the same again, on the inside or on the outside.
Spending time with you was amazing, though. Feeding you jell-o, and listening to you chat about how you'd been over the past few years. You almost spoke as though nothing had happened, but i could still hear it in your voice.
You're beautiful baby, and you always will be-- whether or not you're scarred and broken.
You've got so much strength, and i know you can pull through. I'm always here for you, don't ever forget that.
I love you. Forever and ever, no matter and always.
Don't be an idiot. Don't fucking drink and drive. And don't you dare fucking hurt people the way they hurt her.
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