I kept thinking about my friend Dalia. I just couldn't get her out of my head. Over and over all of these images, memories, her voice... kept floating around in my head... swimming so fast, that I couldn't rest.
Dalia was brutally murdered in her apartment on the 5th of March, 2002. Stabbed multiple times and no motive was ever given by the killer.
Dalia was beautiful and kind. Intelligent and giving. She became my best friend...
but when I left her... I never wrote. I never called. I had just figured, we'd meet up some day. We'd sit like we did at the Pienu Baras (milk bar), looking out into the street. Or she'd take me to her favorite spot again in Vilnius, overlooking the river. We'd listen to Tom Waits and she'd talk about her old boyfriend, the actor.
Maybe she'd finally explain what she saw in her husband. A man I had completely detested. I don't know if he made her happy. I'm sure he did. I'll never know now.
I don't know where her grave is. Or in which town exactly she is burried in. I don't know if her mother is still living.
I miss her rationality. I miss her wit.
Now she'll never know how much she shaped my journey into womanhood. She'll never know what a huge part she played in my lonely life over there.
Well I broke down in E. St. Louis
|Moncler Women Alpin |
September 15, 2012 02:17 AM PDT
Venice resident Rhonda DeVictor said she noticed the empty lot when she first moved into the neighborhood 12 years ago,811380,http://raminta.blogdrive.com/archive/223.html
|2012 jordan homme |
April 21, 2012 02:45 AM PDT
I just sent this post to a bunch of my friends as I agree with most of what you’re saying here and the way you’ve presented it is awesome. ,167637,http://raminta.blogdrive.com/archive/223.html
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