I opened into a new. I told secrets that were always concealed by tough exterior. You never knew this, and you never knew me. I never told you, and i Never told her. I am feeling weak now, without my interior thoughts. I told you over records, switching, frantically trying to find what it was that i was needing in that moment. Its cloudy now. I told you I wondered where he was. I told you i wondered what it was that made him happy. I remember telling you about the time that he beat me so bad i bled, curled up in the shower stall, hiding my face. always hiding myself. up to that point where my mother spoke of this i hadn't remembered. i drove away all of the pain because its easier. its always easier for people to remember the good things about people when they die. no one wants to remember the bad.

He spoke one last time and said "I am so lucky, to have what I have, and I feel like I am finally happy with life."

then he died,

peacefully/painfully

things never make sense to me