i thought of you today. you and your grandpa. i thought about how different my life would be if i still knew you. every now and then your name floats into my mind and it makes me wonder what our friendship really was. who has best friends when they are 9 years old? who experiences real loss at that age? i remember telling carter about what happened.
ive never been more embarassed.
my parents still don't know. i remember trying to convince myself that it never happened. and i remember when i finally came to terms with the whole thing. it was about a year and a half ago when i accepted it. i'm okay now. but every now and then i feel like people are going to hate me when they find out. i'm still afraid to tell people. and i suppose when all is said and done, things like that are the events that become the quiet things that no one ever knows. i'm scared of being alone. and when i think about things regarding my pre-adolescent life, i just wish i would have known better. but i suppose there are some things that happen without any reason and the only thing they manage to do is knock you around and fuck you up a bit.