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This diary entry is written by Kablammo_Dude. ( View all entries )
Previous entry: I heard her fear in category (general)

Seeing red againCategory: (general)
Friday, 16 September 2011
07:58:49 AM (GMT)
My thoughts are bothersome.
Painful, violent, disturbing at times.
I'm not crazy, I promise.
Well, not the criminal kind.
If I could sum it all up in a sentence it would be:
I am protective to a fault.
I have never cared about someone this much in my life, and there is no way I would
ever sit around while someone hurts her, physically or emotionally.
It keeps me up at night, thinking of the pain she has gone through.
Abused by men, including her own father.
Hit, thrown down, choked, verbally attacked, made to feel worthless.
The "R" word.
Driven to think she is mentally insane, when in reality she is just far different,
and more unique than anyone I have ever met.
So much pain can't just be locked underneath a normal smile.
The only things that helped were cutting, shooting up, popping pills, drinking fifths
of whiskey and rum at a time.
The failed attempts at suicide only made her further question her painful existence
in this world.
Haunted by memories, encouraged by the hurtful words, she felt ugly, fat, alone. 
Alone maybe, but she is and always has been beautiful.
Bulimia seemed an appropriate coping method.
Less food, something she could control. 
Sure, I understand the reasons, but she should have never believed those assholes.
If these weren't enough, the voices wouldn't shut up.
Relentless, they haunted her day and night, without apparent reason, only further
increasing her dependence on substances and blades.
Such an amazing girl, forced to go through such bullshit.
I guess everything happens for a reason, and someday we will understand.
I just wish I had met her sooner.
I met her almost two months ago, and somehow I have changed everything.
Almost everything, but I'm not too far off.
Some answers were simple.
Medicine to heal the damage to her stomach.
Promises that we will both stay clean while we are alone.
Butterflies to keep the knives away.
Encouraging words, little reminders that she will never again be alone.
Others cannot be explained.
Others are far beyond anything I have ever experienced, but things have apparently
changed dramatically.
Back to my original topic, all of this has just made me feel more protective over
I feel like her guardian here on earth, and in spirit. I feel like her bodyguard.
So I mean it when I say, I will cause so much pain to anyone that ever thinks of
fucking with her.
In the sick, crazy part of my brain, I want to see someone try.
Maybe that's all I need.
Someone to be an example, to send a message to the rest of the world that this girl
is mine.
And I will make your life a living hell if you ever lay a finger on her.
Yesterday, she thought her dad was going to hit her.
He tends to be bipolar, but hasn't hit her in a while, so she felt like it was
overdue, I suppose.
So I followed her home.
I watched her pull in the driveway then turned around.
She knew and I knew, that if anything happened, I would turn my car around and pick
her up, she would be gone for good.
I would stay in my car, not lose my cool.
That's what I told her.
If she came outside and I saw him touch her, punch her, push her, anything, I was
going to smash his head in.
I'm not crazy.
Her own dad, yeah.
Even he isn't beyond the pain.
I like him, we get along, he seems to not mind me too much.
The truth is, I love her and care about her far more than either of her parents, so
if they think they can treat her however they want, they too can learn a lesson.
I have way too many weapons in my car to choose from.
Three or four bats, knives of various lengths. 
I even had a battle axe in there at some point in time. ( I work at a ren faire,
don't ask ) 
I'll try to keep this diary fairly short, because if not, I would go into great
detail as to exactly what I would do if I ever saw someone hurt her.
Let's just keep it simple:
Death is optional
Brain damage is likely
Pain is mandatory 
Everything in between depends on my self control.
I'm not crazy.
I just won't let anyone hurt her and get away with it.
Those times in her life are over.
She has me now.
I'm really not crazy.
I just see red sometimes.
And often it is far too hard to filter out.

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