March 3, 2020:
I believe the year we met is the same year he murdered at least one and possibly three co-eds in Oklahoma City.
He was on parole, and very proud of his .38 and of the bullets he'd hollowed-out himself to fill their tips with mercury. He said, "Even if you just nick a leg, the mercury will kill." He clearly expected 17-year-old-me to be impressed. I was, but not in the way he expected. I thought he was repulsive.
Recently I've seen a crime scene photo of the one young woman he's conclusively known to have murdered that year. He raped her and strangled her with a cord. Her body is hidden in a derelict closet. Her eyes are closed, her mouth is open, her hair is matted, there's an ugly purple line across her throat from the ligature.
Did the family know?
My mother knew he'd been in for rape. She shuddered visibly when she told me. Did they also know of the murders?
I pray for him every night. For him and his victims. That they're healed and made whole.
But my deepest hope is that reincarnation is true. So that those poor women can experience the lives he took from them.