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My Journal for the Writing of Things
I like being able to have something to write in and would love comments of anyone reading the stories I may post in here.
My David...
The type of friendship between him and I could have been mistaken as boyfriend and girlfriend and often was because I would lean on his shoulder a lot or we would be holding hands, but that was so we stayed connected. It was the type of unspoken connection that you have with a pet. I'm not saying he was a pet or I was a pet, what I mean is that we always knew when the other was upset or frustrated, even when we were seperated from one another.

It was almost like we were twins from different mothers...

His mother sexually abused him in their own home during the night, so he would come to my house to get some relaxation and sleep so that he could be awake during school or just during the day time. If he didn't want to go to school or was sick, I was sick too, mainly because he had exposed me to what he had had. [.laughs softly.] He was very anti-social with people and often violent towards them. I guess he wasn't towards me and I towards him, since I had been the same way around the same time he was alive, because we both had been sexually abused and knew what the other was/had gone through... I regret not giving him my support about moving overseas for college because that's where he had been murdered....

The woman that hit him had been drunk.... she hit him and still had kept going... she didn't stop until she hit a tree 200yards away... His body was so mangled up that they had to identify him by one of his fingers that wasn't messed up.... the ******** whore even had the nerve to say she didn't hit anyone and was innocent!! I would be in jail instead of her for murder just because she killed the one person that... that understood me on... on even an animalistic level... I have this demon... she calls herself 'Siren'... he was the only one that could calm her and keep her from screaming in my head 24/7... she was docile around him and was even silent... when we found out he had been killed, we both buckled onto the floor and wailed in mourning.... the pain is still so unbearable that around his birthday and death day, I have to take sedatives or I end up getting so sick that I can't breathe and I vomit non-stop....

In Memoriam....





 
 
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