I wish I was full of donuts instead of existential dread shirt

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He did get laid I wish I was full of donuts instead of existential dread shirt . off after that school year ended because the I will buy this school was having financial problems. It even was shut down a year later after the next class graduated. So that guy got a new job working for his church- and would take me to his office when we continued hanging out. We saw each other several times during my summer break before I left to go to college in the fall. So I think that other guy was meant to be dumped- and get replaced with this one. He is actually the best friend that I have ever had. I was later invited to his wedding that happened a year and a half after I finished high school. He married a young girl that he met when he was in college- and they now have two beautiful daughters who both should be teenagers. He and his wife left Texas a few months after they got hitched- and live up in Oklahoma where he originally was from. My firstborn was a real chatterbox and because of this we always knew where he was. The second child, Richy, just didn’t talk. He was not like all the other kids I knew who said Dada for daddy or Mama for his mother. He seemed mute and was not given to close interaction. He seemed to be unable to communicate. I was worried about this and wondered what was wrong with him when the following happened. My parents owned a beautiful three-story house in Brooklyn. At that time prices were much cheaper and my parents got it at quite a deal. My cousin and her husband lived in Canada at that time. With a lot of encouragement from my mother, they both moved to New York. With an abundance of space in the house, my mom decided to let them rent a floor of the house. My mom and my cousin (who is her niece) would often socialize together. Her husband would often just watch TV by himself. One day he caught me alone and started talking to me. I got up to leave to go play with my sister in the other room. My sister had already left. He pinned me against the wall and had his way with me. This happened approximately three times. My mother never defended me. I never forgot that pain. I have been inappropriately touched by three men in my life. But my cousin’s husband was the first. Each time I went to my mother about it, she pinned the blame onto me. I don’t hate my mother. Hate doesn’t absolve me from the pain. I am disappointed in her. Disappointed that she as my mother didn’t support nor help me in my time of need. She turned a blind eye to my suffering and made me out to be one at fault.

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Till this day, I do not trust my cousin I wish I was full of donuts instead of existential dread shirt . She often texts me wishing me a happy birthday. I assume it is my mother that gave her my number. Her husband also texted me, Eid Mubarak. I asked my mother how he obtained my number. She shrugged stating that he must have gotten it from her or my father. My cousin recently bought a house and has invited me to her place many times. I have not once stepped into her home. She will call my mom and ask “why is Shata so distant?” My mom will say “oh she’s just antisocial.” I had to stop midway when writing this answer. I had repressed that memory for so long, I had nearly forgotten it. Initially, the I will buy this answer was supposed to be about my cousin but for some reason, the incident with her husband came to mind. I felt a foreign pain in my chest as tears began to just pour from my eyes. All my life my parents made me feel insignificant. No matter what I did. I wasn’t good enough. As this memory resurfaced I thought to myself “your life is so fucked up. You got abused in countless ways. Yet they didn’t fucking care. The marriage, the molestation, the oppressive culture. All of it is fucking bullshit.” I don’t forget. I’m the type of person that will never trust a person again after the trust is broken. My cousin denied her husband touching a child. She pretends like everything is okay and then wants to know why I don’t give a flying fuck about her. All my life, I’ve had Bengali men force themselves on me. When I cried for help, when I tried to get the behavior to stop, when I tried to reach for an authoritative figure, I was told to shut up. I was made out to be the problem. I was silenced, invalidated, and disregarded. Any case that has meth allegations has to stay open for 30 days. She came back on 12/15, and I was good. Until the day before. She came back for a screen to close my case & I failed. They took my daughter, and Red Cross messaged my husband in Afghanistan. I picked him up from the airport on Christmas Day. Before the new year rang in, he made me leave. So now I’m back to nothing, and nowhere to go.
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