29
Grant
I didn’t know what the f**k I was doing. I’d never f*****g told anyone about this. I never f*****g talked about it. I never even discussed it with the people who knew, like Sydney.
I didn’t touch those memories. They were the motherfucking crux of my emotionless existence. They ate at my very being and reminded me how much of a worthless piece of s**t I was.
So, I tried everything to get rid of them.
I tried to outrun them.
I tried to drown them in booze, music, and s*x.
I use any and everything to force them down deeper and deeper within me.
When that stuff had stopped working, I would f*****g knock the memories upside the head with the flat side of a shovel, dig the memories’ graves with it, and bury them six feet under.
Ari was the only thing that had ever made me simp
