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I was 13... She stares at it, my brother left for the army that day. He wanted us to be there and watch him leave. I wore that new black dress my mom bought and a white Madonna glove. He said it was too much. But I didn't care that he was leaving, when we got in the car, I didn't care. When we went through 2 hour traffic to the airport, I didn't care. When I helped him with his bags, I didn't care. And I told myself I over and over again that I didn't when we hugged and he told me when he came back he would be different.
After he left, I still believed I didn't care until that letter came saying he would never be returning home, ever. All the emotions I felt before came forward. 3 years later. I cried every day. I even went emo for a few months, then art found me and saved me.
Sam smiled. Those were the hard times and she would never forget them. Never.
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