Dear AJ,
I’m sorry I never got the chance to love you and hold you close at night and take the rope and chair away from you so these hearts wouldn’t be so broken. It hurts to see these people hurting and burning things in bonfires that make them upset, chopping wood with axes to get the word suicide out of their head, or smoking in attempt to cloud over the memories of you in a casket. AJ, you mother loved you, no matter who you were. You didn’t have to leave. I wish you wouldn’t have left. We are all hurting.
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