After the scary movie ended, it was dark outside. It was early, but strangely dark. My boyfriend, J, drove me home. There were fire trucks and ambulance in front of the house. I felt like I had entered the horror flick we had just left. They were not at my house, but next door, at the house of the kids I babysit. Danny came out on a stretcher. His head was blue, but he was not covered in a sheet, so we were hopeful. But then we hear, he was gone. Sweet little 10 year old Danny had died. It was an accident. J took me to the park to let me cry. He picked me a flower, then told me he no longer wanted to be my boyfriend. There was not really a reason, he just couldnt handle it. He didnt want to see me cry, even if it was not about him. He didnt want to comfort me when bad things happened. Fine and fine, break up with me. Just why on the day my sweet little guy died? Why is that what triggers him. I know the crying is aweful, but someone was gone from my life... its not like I was crying over spilled milk! I dont know... ive never really vented this story to anyone. It still makes me mad to think about what an inconsiderate asshole J was. What timing....
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