On Jan. 3rd, I wrote this in my diary:
"I tried to break up with him but he says he's breaking up with me (fine with me) and he has no where to go. I said that's not my problem. I want to pack up his shit but I don't know if this is just a fight or if we're actually breaking up."
Facts: I cut him off on Jan. 5th. I took the purple and put it in my bra. He must of took a piece of tinfoil he already smoked off of and went upstairs and did himself in with it. I fell asleep on the couch. At 11:30 pm, I ran upstairs yelling for Jesse. The bathroom door was locked. I was wearing a choker. Without thinking, I ripped the choker off my neck and used the clasp to break into the bathroom.
And there he was: dead in my bathroom on Mona Avenue in Vanier in Ottawa. I called the heat. They had me perform CPR. I knew he was dead. I called his baby-mother when I got to my parents' and later that night, Mona Avenue got robbed.
If you are struggling with addiction, please seek help.
If you are struggling with mental health, please seek help.
There's no way I can save you but you can save yourself.
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