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Forty Four - The Bad Boy wants to die

Hunter

Days turned to weeks. And I'd spent about two months looking like a mess. Painting and selling them to interested clients, I was also doing commissioned work. If I wasn't painting, I was nursing a bottle of Jack Daniels. Lately, Jack had become best friends with me; he helped numb the confusion and the pain.

It was sad, almost too funny the irony that my mother hadn't wanted me even before I was out of her womb, and my wife had clearly deserted me for reasons that I was still searching for to this day. Not that I had any mommy issues, but it was a no-brainer that I was basically unwanted.

It was pathetic. My life as I was living right now, feeling sorry for myself that I was unlovable. The pity-party needed to stop. I just didn't know how. Some of my f

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