beatleswriter73
One thing was that I was never secure. All I did was cry about myself, even though I tryed to stop. Until George came to me. He would wrap his arms aroung me and telll me in that wonderful sccent, "Em, you're fine just the way you are. I love you." He destroyed my insecurities.
Hunting. It was the favorite pastime of my father, and I never approved of it. But, he still drug me along every weekend for it. He shot so many bears out there, it was sickening. What was I supposed to do?