This is a “Guest Post” of sorts. Everything below this italicized paragraph was written by Daniel Bane Cooper. He wanted to share his story and was having difficulty finding a venue to do so. He finally posted it to Facebook only to have it deleted, so I volunteered to post it here. I am doing so, completely unedited, without comment and haven’t even read the story myself at this point. I take no sides, take no vouch for the tale’s truth, and have never even met Daniel or anyone else mentioned in the story itself. I’m just providing a venue. Comments of any sort are welcome and will not be moderated (beyond spam control). I do not know if Daniel will choose to come to this post to answer any questions, but if any are left for him I’ll be sure to let him know.
This is not an easy story to tell. There are a lot of reasons I am telling it and a lot of why it has taken me so much time to decide to do it. I am very far from a perfect person. There is not one part of me that doesn’t recognize a big part of this whole thing could have been avoided had I made better decisions. Part of it was also inevitable. This is nowhere close to how I wanted my time in NH to be, but at the end of the day it is the truth and hopefully someone can not have to learn the lessons the way I did. People also have a right to know the people they are around, good and bad.
The reason I chose to move to NH over San Diego, New Orleans, or the Virgin Islands was because defending freedom has always been something I believed in. Why I stayed was because of the amazing people. The betrayal I felt from the military, and how long that took me to make peace with, made me a little gun-shy on really getting close to and trusting people.
About 5 years before coming to NH I battled with an rx habit that came very close to taking my life. It was a lot better than it was, but I was still battling some of the same demons upon my arrival. What helped more than anything was being around so many great people. It was finally an environment where I could let my guard down, relate to people, and feel accepted by people who I held in very high esteem. Finally something that I craved, and what I missed so much about the military, family that loved me. I feel lame even typing that last sentence.
After about 7-8 months I was in a position to be of service to that place. My life style really made me feel like one of the luckiest people. The first Tuesday of the month would get me little kid excited to see who in the hell was going to walk through that door. During the day I would get to go work in nature with the person I looked up to the most, William Kostrich. I gladly accepted $50 for a days work and would have taken less. Working outside at the other place I would often think to myself that this is where I will be buried or have my ashes spread. All of the work I did was out of love and wanting to see a bright future for all who came.
The more I got to know William the more I looked up to him. This was a person who I wanted to be more like myself. He always surprised me with calm and reasonable viewpoints on subjects that shined an entire new light on them. It also did a lot for my confidence having someone like him seem to enjoy spending so much time around me. I could really go on all day about the great qualities and activism that William has done. It’s not a secret.
During the time I knew William he had a girlfriend. From the moment I found out I knew for certain that she would always be off-limits for me. Always and no matter what. She might as well have been my sister. When there were times I could have gotten a glance I would turn my head. It made me uncomfortable sitting close to her because I never wanted to give even the smallest impression that I was interested or attempting anything. I had way too much respect for him and wanted my loyalties to be very known. Never did I want him to think I had any other motives than being his friend, learning from him, and just being around him.
I had a girlfriend who broke the deepest trust we had. We have made amends, she did tell me, it was just a few weeks after the fact. William sat with me while I was grieving. Not grieving, more like crying like a little bitch and wallowing in misery. It fucks with my head worse than anything when people close to me betray very sacred trusts. I can forgive and look past a lot of shit in people, just not that. William heard me talk over and over about how I wish people would just tell me what was going on. I am fine with pretty much anything as long as I don’t feel like I am being played like a fool. For reason I am still searching for it wrecks my entire life when I have to be the one to find out for myself. I would also confide in him about details of my relationship with Maple.
Life was going pretty good for me. If I could point to one moment where the whole thing went to shit, it was the night that Maple Jane made a pass at me. I don’t remember exactly what she said, I do remember it was subtle and I didn’t believe it happened. The second time it was pretty forward. Here is this pretty and well spoken lady showing an interest in me. We really did hit it off from the start. William and my other friends probably got tired real quick of me talking about Maple Jane.
Pretty soon we were taking walks together everyday. There were so many reasons I would tell myself it was a very bad idea. Her “room-mate” was also her babies daddy, I was afraid of being a bad influence on her kids, and relationships in the community can be very destructive were at the top of the list.
For a solid month all we did was go on walks and talk on the phone and I loved every minute of it. The things we would talk about made it seem like the woman of my dreams I never even dreamed of. Almost daily we would talk about how it was important to take things slow, to make sure we were really going to be a good fit, and that nothing was going to happen until she was out and in a place of her own. I was suspicious from the start that she was using me to get out of a fucked up situation, but when she seemed to be totally on board with the idea we should both be on our own two feet, my worries subsided and I fell harder for her by the day. During this time the only physical contact I remember at all was a hug before our walks would end.
From the get go I brought up the topic of her “room-mate”. She made a very convincing conversation on the topic of their relationship. How there was nothing sexual going on, he was aware that they were not together, they slept in separate rooms, they had not been intimate in a long while, blah blah bullshit. When I started asking more questions she introduced the stories of abuse.
Before I go any further it needs to be very clear. The only things that I believe actually happened took place right in front of me. Maple Jane told me every man that had a significant role in her life abused her at one point. From when she was little and her father walked away as her priest was molesting her, a boy raping her when she was 15 and his father walking away, to her brother, as well as her ex-husband, and every boyfriend she has ever had either sexually or physically abused her in one way or another. This is when I started noticing a pattern of Maple being a helpless victim her entire life. She has also told me numerous stories about men in the community abusing young children.
The stories started slow. It was hints that her “room-mate” was becoming more volitile. Saying things or backing her into a corner and yelling at her. The picture she was painting was a slow escalation of threats of force and intimidating behavior.
One night Maple told me that she had to leave with the kids because her roomie was becoming violent. She told me he had grabbed her by the throat and was punching holes in the walls all around her head and saying he was going to kill her. That night a good friend allowed her and her kids to stay over for the night and attend mediation the next day. I slept on the floor with Maple and her kids slept on beds. She told me that her parents were encouraging her to get a restraining order and go through the state. Her decision was to get away for the night and go through mediation. Turns out there were not any holes in the walls in their apartment when I went in months later.
I believe it was around this time that her roomie knew what was going on. I don’t know exactly how he found out, but I do know that we began having honest conversations about what was going on. He was very level headed given the circumstances and I was pretty impressed how calm he remained when I was giving some honest answers to some tough questions.
Maple really made me want to be a better person. I needed to get a job that could support a more healthy and calm lifestyle. We always talked about we wanted to work together to make each other better people. Always push each other to improve. A decent paying job popped up and I took it. It was on the road but I couldn’t turn down a chance to make some good money. I sure missed Maple a whole lot, but just thought how much better it could be in the long run for a short term sacrifice.
Up to this point it is not an exaggeration that Maple heard me talk for at least 20 hours on my stance in relationships and my pleads for honesty. It can all be summed up by saying I don’t care what happens, just please tell me about it. Anyone close to me knows that I don’t handle being lied to like that good at all. I can’t figure it out. As long as I am told it doesn’t bother me one bit. The other way around though and it fucks with my head and drives me insane. This is why I beg those close to me to just tell me. The physical pain in my body and the dark places it takes me in my head sucks. I can forgive just about anything in people, but not that. I actually look forward to the day a woman will come to me and tell me they were fucking around with someone else, at least then I know they are being honest. Lies in relationships build walls that block the close intimacy I crave.
She would do a lot of things I would never tolerate with a girlfriend. She would run into the store while we were out with the kids to get soap supplies. She would walk out, sit down in the car, and tell me she stole the supplies(the oils which are the most expensive part if I remember). The first thing I said was why would she tell me that. She knew how I felt about that, but said that she needed help to stop doing those things and that I was the only one that could help. She would say other guys just let her get away with shit, but that she needed someone like me to call her on her bullshit. It’s fucked up but I believed it. Why else would she tell me? What always kept me hooked was he small efforts of improvement, which now I see as calculated moves to fool me into thinking she was changing her ways.
Less than a month of working 5 days on the road and two days in I come home. Not only Maple was missed dearly, but I really did love walking through that door after being gone for a few days. This time I walk in and within two seconds I see William and know something is up. It hit me like a ton of fucking bricks. My smile and hello was met with a split-second bow of his head, slump in his shoulders, and a look on his face I had seen nothing like before. It was guilt and shame. I dismissed it like “no fucking way, no fucking way William would not say anything, not him.” He sat with me as a friend when I was going through a similar situation before. He has seen what this does, he would tell me. Denial is powerful. After this happened I would see Maple and William talking and give me that “oh shit” look when I saw them. “Maybe Maple, but not in a million fucking years William I would tell myself. That night Maple and I went to dinner with my parents. I get to see them only a few days a year together, this night was ruined with me being trapped in my own head.
One night before I leave for work Maple slipped up in her stories. The truth I was finally able to squeeze out of her was that her and William left the club, got a private room in someone else’s apartment, got fucked up, watched a movie, and just “messed around”. This I do not believe after the original story was that they watched a movie, on separate couches, in a public room. It also came out that they had both lied down on a tiny mattress together in the back of a basement, “but that’s it”. I am confident that there is more to the story than I am being told. Bullshitters will always minimize and justify their shitty actions and that is what they both continue to do. Either way it doesn’t matter. You don’t fuck around with your good friends girlfriends and not tell them about it. Some people view that as a pretty fucked up thing to do. In my book that makes you a fucking piece of shit, no matter what redeeming qualities you may have.
What also ended up coming out was that another one of my very close friends had fucked around with Maple. When I confronted him all he said was “I didn’t think it was my place to tell you”. Well buddy, I guess we were not friends then and we will never will be. The first time I looked through Maples phone I was impressed actually with how much of a slut she was. I even started laughing and told her that and I meant it. The amount of guys that she was meeting up with, texting with, and sending naked pictures to was more than I could count on one hand. And why did I stay? Because I love sluts, I just want an honest one. I am pretty fucked up too. Maybe if Maple could just see that she really could tell me anything, maybe then she would open up and not feel the need to lie. But that is not Maples way. She will lie when the truth is the only thing that can save her ass. What really pissed me off was when I saw she was fucking around with a married man in the community who has at least one kid. There are still nights where I wake up and wonder if I should tell his poor wife. I would want someone to tell me. I don’t think I am going to, but you know who you are and you are a piece of fucking shit to do that to someone and risk so much. You don’t deserve your wife or your kids you fucking scumbag.
That week on the road was absolute hell. Things were looking so up and then I lose my gf, what I considered a brother, and what I thought was the coolest place in the world. Damn. I was done with Maple and was going to beat the shit out of William. I have been through this before and knew what was coming. No sleep, not eating, not able to follow simple instructions and tasks at work, almost getting fired for fucking shit up, my world was a wreck. After a certain point I knew that it would be me one day, never did I ever think it would be William, never. It was also during this time that I got a message or a phone call (don’t remember) from another one of my very good friends. He wanted to tell me that Maple and him drove 45 minutes away from the basement to go to his room, watch family guy, sleep on different beds, and drive back about 6 hours after they initially left the club. Oh, and he sat next to her and put his arm on her leg, but that is it. Again, there is no part of me that does not know there is more to that story as well.
After a few days of voicemails, texts, and e-mails I caved. Maybe there was some way to fix this mess with LOVE, lol. Looking back I should have just kept my mouth shut and left all of it. Not said a word to anybody and just bounced. Instead I listened to the bullshit and fake apologies. The life I was promised by Maple was perfect. She laid it on very convincingly too. She told me she needed someone like me that will call her on her bullshit. That she needs help being better. That she was totally mine to do anything I wanted with, she would serve me like a king, and a lot of other enticing promises. I tried letting it go in so many ways, understanding, forgiving, moving away, none of it has worked still.
And for a while things were doing a lot better. Maple and her roomie were leaving their apartment. I was leaving that place(it just wasn’t the same), and I knew it was a piss poor decision to move in together. I figured that we had been through so much bullshit I might as well find out if we would ever actually work in different circumstances. Once that decision was made things really got fucked.
There was two incidents on two separate occasions her room-mate blocked both of our free movements and was belligerently yelling in both of our faces. Things were escalating. He wasn’t liking the idea of us getting a place at all. While trying to leave the club he got in my face again. Maple came around the corner and he grabbed her arm, to stop her from leaving, and to yell at her too. We both walked out another door where I was stopped again and prevented from leaving. This time he head-butted me in the face. We walked back inside and went downstairs. At this point all I cared about was avoiding more conflict by not being around the instigator at all. We would not be in town in just a couple of days and hopefully everything would die down. It also came out during this time that Maple was fucking her room-mate still. To say the least I was shocked that someone at that place used violence, bragged about it, and was welcome back.
Arrangements were made for him to see his kids without us having to see each other. During this time Maple relayed to me that it was said “the whole thing would be over when we were both dead”. What was not going to happen is me being a punching bag for someone. This person was seeing red, had crossed several boundaries, and the situation only looked like it was going to get worse. I got a pistol and prayed that I would not have to use it. I was not going to leave Maple and we would turn off the lights and put a towel in the door bell when he would show up drunk in the middle of the night yelling threats to both of us on the front lawn. Two days later I am in a parking lot in town and here comes the roomie to yell in my face and threaten me again. Had it not been for the fact that I didn’t want to leave two kids without a father, approaching me in an aggressive manner, after assaulting me, after making criminal threats on my life, and while yelling fighting words, that would have been the last thing he ever did. I was standing in a parking lot with my right hip turned away, looking him square in the eyes, listening to him yell in my face, hoping he would turn around and get into his car. He did, thank god.
The topic of conversation was what we were going to do to about the whole deal. My train of thought was how can we keep the state out of it, how can things remain peaceful, and how can we make sure he can see his kids. While driving in the car Maple said something along the lines of “Prison is too good for that bastard”. When asked what she meant by that she said her room mate would tell her that he always saw himself killing the people he is angry with and that he always felt he would spend the rest of his life in prison. I changed the conversation to see if she would bring it up again. I really didn’t have a good feeling about what she said. A couple of hours later she brought it up again. Saying something like “The best way to deal with him is to not have him around anymore”. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind what she was getting at, but I wanted to know how serious she was. I told her we would talk about it while away from our phones. I thought for a bit and decided to play along to really pluck her mind about this. I was with her doing some work somewhere and started asking questions about what she meant, why she said it, and how serious she was.
I told her that sometimes I have had thoughts on how to deal with certain problems, that it is okay to have thoughts like those, and talk about them, but if she was serious about it she needed to tell me. She looked me straight in the eye and guaranteed how serious she was. For the next three days I asked her a lot of questions about how and why she wanted to do it. It was something else listening to how it would be better for the kids, better for us, and how fucking stupid her plan was. Of course the police would suspect her so I was going to be the trigger man, and that me doing that would give us a special permanent bond. On the third day of listening to this I was convinced she was serious and was very very sick and really needed help. That feeling of holy shit, this could also be you one day was not very comforting. “But maybe she just needs someone to love her” was what I was telling myself. Fucking idiot I am.
Let me also say there is a lot of speculation surrounding this. People have thought I was exaggerating, making the whole thing up, she wasn’t capable of it, or was not serious. I have told this story several times to several people now. I am the only one who has the same story every single time. It has not changed from the first time I told it. Maple also admitted in front of a third party that she was serious, it was all her idea, and the reason it didn’t happen was because I put a stop to it. Her first story about this went from complete denial, to minimizing it and saying that it was just out of anger and she never meant it, to admitting that my story was true, back to denying it. That is exactly what happened and she was dead serious.
There were also a couple of times that she would say things like “we could have a lot better life without the kids” and “I feel like the kids hold me back from doing what I want in life”. The same tone and same feeling as when she brought up killing her room-mate, but I never touched it, I would just change the subject. I know that a persons interpretation of tone of voice doesn’t count for much, but take that as you would like. If you have ever spent time around her and her kids you will see that spending time with them is not a priority, if barely a consideration. My best guess is that at some point, Maple quit having the ability to form any emotional bond with anyone, including her kids. Her words and actions are very empty.
Looking back I should have called the state. If that would have been the case her sorry ass would be rotting in a cage right now. There is not a doubt in my mind she was serious and would have gone through with preparation. While I was playing along for those three days I suggested maybe waiting a while since things were so heated. Nope, it had to be done and it had to be done soon. I brought up every way of solving the problem without murder and she had a reason why killing someone would be better. She was trying to talk me into it and was very against being talked out of it.
She sold her car and we made a deal. At any time, for any reason, she could break up and be done with me. I would drive her to a job, help watch the kids, do whatever it took for her to get on her own two feet. If she moved out there with me and started being a lying, manipulative, bitch I would kick her sorry ass out and wouldn’t have shit for her. All of the stuff in my storage locker right now is mine. It legally and morally belongs to me. She gave it to me and I promised she would get it all back when she held up her end of the bargain(more about MY property later). She would be fucking over herself and her kids, all she had to do was be honest. It is all crazy, but during this time she would do things to really make it look like she was getting better. In reality, she was just toning it down for a bit.
When we first moved in together things were going really well. It was an amazing time. I had a blast going on drives, spending time with Maple, and playing with her kids. It looked like the crazy times were passed us and Maple appeared to be making an honest effort to be a more honest person and better mother. It wasn’t long until she was throwing shit around the house, attacking me in front of her kids, accusing me of having girlfriends hiding in the woods every time I would go outside, basically being the opposite of everything she promised over and over.
During this time it has been alleged that I was hiding and keeping someones kids from them. The entire time those accusations were being made, there was an open offer that at any time I would drop everything I was doing and bring this mans children anywhere he wanted. If he wanted them at a park for 15 minutes or 15 hours I would bring them there and leave until he called me to get them. Not one time in the months we were out there did I get one call. It should be noted that we would drop the kids off for Sunday visits.
About a month after moving in together we were taking a shower and I was washing her. I noticed that she was very stand-offish while I had my hands on her. Then I noticed why. Washing Maple in the shower is how I found out she was pregnant. She insisted she knew the baby was mine. We really did have to discuss the fact that if more than one dick is in a woman during the time she get’s pregnant, a DNA test is the only way to know for sure. For many good reasons I did not think the baby was mine. Mainly, if I was able to get a girl pregnant it would have most likely happened by now. But nope, everyone involved knew for sure it was mine…..somehow. After we broke up I was accused of getting her pregnant and ditching my responsibility. What I told Maple was that since she was the one that decided to fuck around with other guys, and didn’t know for sure who’s it was, she could take care of the abortion. Not my fault you don’t know who’s it is, and I am pretty sure it is not mine. If she did have the baby and it turned out to be mine, I was going to take it and make sure she never saw it. I won’t go into how I was going to make that happen, but I told her and she knew that I was not bullshitting, had the means to do it, and she would not have been part of that child’s life. Had that happened, I would have taken care of MY responsibility. I have spent enough time around Maple and her kids to be confident that would be the best decision for my child. It was something I thought about for a long while before telling her my terms.
So after a few months things are only getting worse. I don’t even want to be around her, at all. She’s saying things about how we could live such a better life together without the kids, theres other girlfriends hiding behind every tree, people are crawling under kitchen floors stalking her, and everything out of her mouth is a lie. The physical attacks didn’t ever cause any real harm, but having someone try to claw your face off does get a little old. It’s the end. Her mom wanted to see her grandkids one last time before she left town. I knew it was a bad idea but I let her borrow my car to take them to their grandmother, then take them to drop off and see their father, and then come back to the house. It was very clear and she agreed to it.
Over 12 hours later she brings my car back with the kids. She was drunk and so high that it looked like she was trying to fucking chew her ear off. Had she been pulled over that fucked up she would have lost the kids, my car would have been taken in, and we all would be homeless, not to mention she had a warrant out for her. I was fucking pissed to say the least. I still gave her a chance to tell me what she did that day and admit that she was high as the treetops. I told her if she lied to me we were through, that she was getting the fuck out, and I wasn’t going to help her for shit. Nope, true to Maple Jane form she could not tell the truth to save her, or her kids asses. She looked with her wobbling eyes told me she had done no drugs, only had one beer somewhere through a jawline that looked like an ocean in an earthquake. Sometimes I pick up on those small indicators, I guess I paid really good attention in DARE classes.
We made an agreement. If she didn’t start talking a bunch of shit about me then I would keep my mouth shut as well. She had gone to some of my close friends before and told them I was abusing her, then would take back what she said. I knew it was only a matter of time. It wasn’t too long before I start getting told how abusive I was to Maple. All the things she begged me to do to her, the times she begged me to hit her harder(that sounds bad, mostly spanking), the times when she promised over and over she craved certain things, the times she would say “is that all you got bitch”, became me abusing her. She also insinuated that I was touching her daughter inappropriately. It wasn’t that she was talking all this shit that bothered me. It was my good friends giving me that look like, “How much of this is true?”. That is worst part about false-allegations, the stigma doesn’t go away and I now had it.
To me false-allegations are as bad as really doing them. Making false rape allegations is just as bad as rape in my book. I have seen it take down the careers and reputations of some very good men. It really doesn’t settle with me. Maple also admitted in front of a third party that everything we ever did was beyond consensual. It was some extreme shit, but we had a safe word, I would stop during the times and make sure she was okay and wanted to keep going, I would remind her she could stop at any time and I would not be mad or hold it against her in any way. After it was over I would hold her and tell her how much I loved her, how much I cared for her, and praise her for all the ways she had been improving. Sometimes for days after we would talk about what we did, I would make sure it wasn’t too much, and we would discuss what we both gained from the experience. A lot of the talk was how great it felt to share such moments with someone we trusted, loved, and how much closer the experience made us. This, is what Maple turned into stories of abuse. If Maple ever wants to contest this, I have notes I can publish that she wrote to me that proves my side is true. Going against our agreement, Maple went directly to sanctuary and to my closest friends and tried ruining my name with stories that were 100 percent provable bullshit. Such a helpless victim….
Even when this was all going down I was making unreasonable amounts of effort to get things out of my storage unit to give back to her. Even though it was my property I was going to go out of my way so I could remove her all the way from my life. I considered just giving children’s items back and selling the rest, but I try to be forgiving and understanding. Plus I don’t want to be paying to keep all that shit there. But nope, not a phone call returned, not a text returned, we would make arrangements to get things and she would flake and not pick up the phone. It wasn’t until two days before I am moving, when I have no time, that she wants to meet and get the shit.
Going against everything in me saying don’t put Maple in a position to fuck you over again, I made arrangements to have a third party be present while Maple takes kids beds and toys from storage. I did this because she was sending me texts telling me how the kids necks and backs are hurting from sleeping on the floor. This has been over two weeks and neither I or the third party have heard anything from the one person that should be making an effort to get her kids in beds. This turns into me “willfully withholding children’s beds” by people who should know better than to trust anything she says. Just to be clear, the reason Maples kids are sleeping on floors and fucking up their necks and backs is because they have a shitty mother. Besides me driving truckloads of shit to her fathers without her involvement, not leaving the state, or just giving her the combination to my storage unit, there is nothing I could have done to change the current situation. She still can’t stop lying and playing the victim, and she has some very smart people parroting her bullshit as well.
Like I have always said I figured out she was a whore and it would be my turn one day. I never thought it would be as bad as it was with the people who it was though. Never. Losing William as a friend was a lot worse than Maple. I loved him like a brother that I never had and that is no joke. As much love as one man can have for another without being gay is how I felt about him. Now, if he ever called me crying for help I would hang up, if he ever reached out his hand to me I would spit on it, if for some wild coincidence I saw him in public I would pretend I didn’t know him. Because I don’t, the idea of the William I loved only ever existed in my mind.
I tried posting this onto a closed group page. Someone doesn’t want this information out there and it was deleted by facebook. Today I brought up my last save point and added some stuff throughout the post. This is not the original. This is a true story. I don’t want you to believe me though. If you would like ask me questions. punch holes in my story, rip it up, rip me up, and I will answer almost anything with just as much honesty and candor as I can. What may be off is the timing. The timeline is off, but I only claim to know what I actually know. There were some details that I was not certain of, so I have left a lot out. So see who the open one is and see who changes their story, appeals to emotion, and minimizes and justifies their shitty behavior. I don’t have as much access or time on the webs I used to, by far. If anyone wants to ask questions, it may not be right away, but I will answer them.
I am also sure that some pretty fucked up shit about me will come out over me telling this story. I freely admit my mistakes because I am trying to learn how to not repeat them. No longer am I running from who I am, but running to where I want to go. There is a lot I am ashamed of, but nothing I hide from.
As far as me some people have expressed concern of my well being. A couple of nights after Maple left I was sitting the bank of a lake, looking at some pretty hills, watching a pretty sunrise, and there were bright colors everywhere. I was really starting to digest everything that had happened in the crazy months before. There was a clear fork in the road. I knew that if I went about my normal ways of dealing with pain it might take my life. My ways were leading me to want to partake in some pretty out of control “adventures” to deal with my situation to say the least.
But the other way was saying fuck that and these piece of shit human beings were not going to break me, they were going to make me stronger. For the next few weeks I would spend hours staring at a beer can on my table. I had it incase the detox got bad enough where I thought my body could not handle it. I would talk to the full beer, yell at it, and sometimes cry like a fucking baby, and yes, I even showered with it. Shower beer sucks not drinking it. There was an overwhelming feeling that it was so late. Everyday I regret waiting for tragedy for that motivation. I just think different everything could have been, had I made the decision to be where I am now, when I first moved to New Hampshire. My time there is done and hopefully I left my mark, even if that was only showing other what not to do.
I am still pretty fucked up, but everyday I get better. The more time I spend in nature the less time I spend on the internet. Now I am focused on building my life with just me. No clubs(sold my membership), no groups (my name is not on any counter or list), just me. If I find someone along the way that wants to walk with me on my path for a while then cool. If anyone wants to try and take away from what I am building they better pack a fucking lunch. I will be much more careful and protective from now on.
TL;DR- Threw away more than I ever had for a piece of ass. Don’t be me.No tags for this post.