Monday, 25 July 2011
08:16:50 PM (GMT)
I was stricken. Any chance of getting her out of my mind was gone, and I was eager
to learn more about her, to find out just exactly what kind of soul lay inside such a
sweet and innocent exterior.
After showing some interest, she asked me if I really wanted to get to know her, and
I said yes. She sent me the link to her diaries, which in itself said more than I
realized, and I jumped on the opportunity to delve deeper into the mind that I had
become so unexpectedly attached to.
What I read still haunts me.
I won't go into the details, but I found myself crying. Crying like a kid who doesn't
get his way, like a widow at a funeral, like a friend, concerned, distraught,
helpless. Her pain attached itself to my heart, her sorrow clawed it's way through my
skull, and settled in my brain. It still hasn't left.
This was when it began.
The never-ending assault of thoughts.
I knew she seemed like there was much more to her, but I had no idea what I was
getting myself into. Through all of the problems, the addictions, the abuse, all I
could see was strength.
The ability to smile and give a helping hand, through the darkest of times, just blew
me away. As much her diaries affected me, as hard as it was for me to sit there,
witnessing the remains of what the past had done to her, I couldn't turn away. I read
all of them.
I was stricken.