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to my son

To my son,

When you were born, it was so ecstatic to have such a healthy beautiful baby boy. I gave you one of my favorite names, a knight of the round table, noble and romantic. It was so amazing to carry you in my body and then in my arms. I cherish those days.
You and your sister use to fight when you were little, you were always so determined to keep up with her, and you never gave up.  You grew to have a deep friendship, a special relationship. 
You had this laugh that came from deep within you, I called it your belly laugh. Hearing that always made me smile. You were curious, remember when you took a part the thermostat to see how it worked? At the time I didn't think it was funny, but now I do.
You were always very popular. You had girls chasing you even in Kindergarten. As you got older, the girls called you all hours of the day, to the point of irritation. You had so many friends and made so many memories, racing on your razors with the dogs pulling you, except Lark took you through the bushes.  The night when you were in high school playing hide and go seek tag, and the neighbors called the police. The day I was at work and you were chased by the deer. Those both made me laugh.  You went to football games, baseball games, always so busy.
We had incredible summers. We went camping every summer, rented canoes, paddle boats, and you'd swim in the lake until your lips turned blue. We hiked, went to the falls, the city park for a picnic. Sometimes you'd go fishing and spend a quiet day with Papa. The year we went to the amusement park every week, or the trips to the boardwalk for a weekend. One summer we went camping for two weeks, white water rafting, bungee jumping, surfing, and swam with the dolphin, that's been one of the best.
Now, you sit downstairs at night talking to yourself, rambling. You read tags from clothes and furniture, study pictures on the walls looking for coded messages. You punch holes in the walls looking for secret rooms and surveillance equipment. You won't eat because you think I'm poisoning you. I don't know why you pull up the linoleum,  the floor boards, or the carpet, I don't think you do either. Yet, this is how you spend your time.
I'm angry because I have lost my cheerful, outgoing, loving, beautiful boy. I'm angry because you refuse to get help. I'm angry because you have chosen this drug over your friends, your family, your life. Is this really what you want to do for the rest of your life?
I love you, I love you, I love you. I'm heartbroken, please come back to me.

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