Dear friend, I guess I forgot to mention in my last letter that it was Patrick who told me about masturbation.
I guess I also forgot to tell you how often I do it now, which is a lot.
I don’t like to look at pictures. I just close my eyes and dream about a lady I do not know.
And I try not to feel ashamed. I never think about Sam when I do it. Never.
That’s very important to me because I was so happy when she said “Charlie-esque” since it felt like an inside joke of sorts.
One night, I felt so guilty that I promised God that I would never do it again.
So, I started using blankets, but then the blankets hurt, so I started using pillows,
but then the pillows hurt, so I went back to normal.
I wasn’t raised very religiously because my parents went to Catholic school, but I do believe in God very much.
I just never gave God a name, if you know what I mean. I hope I haven’t let Him down regardless.
Incidentally, my dad did have a serious talk with the boy’s parents.
The boy’s mother was very very angry and screamed at her son. The boy’s father kept quiet.
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