This brought up something I never talked about until now and pushed down and forgot about.

I was approximately 11 or 12. My first real girlfriend. Holding hands, talking on the phone. Smooches, nothing too crazy. She lived in a huge house in a really good neighborhood. I will go over there on the weekends. This happened for four or five months.

One weekend, I don’t know how I found out of the specifics, but I was unable to see her and didn’t really understand why.

Before I go any further, warning trama warning, don’t read any further if you’re sensitive.

The father shot everyone in the house except for one of the younger sisters. Murder suicide situation.

Wait, I remember a little more. How I found out. my parents went to drop me off at their house and their cops and police tape everywhere.

I never realized how deep my subconscious that event has been pushed down and why I feel the need to speak about it, now. Thank you, poster. Maybe I can deal with it now that I remember it.