There are days I wish I could cut out your tongue for what you’ve said, but physically I’m weak.
Then there are days I think I could shoot you for what you fail to say.
I guess I really knew I loved you, truly, then; the day I went to get the gun.
Ironic as it is, I was alerted to love by seething from and craving for suffering.
I would have as well, you know; shot you.
Ha of course you know. Would you have taken the chance and tried to bluff or call me out?
I wonder how well do you know me, really.
When I got there he wasn’t home. Probably for the best, with hindsight.
If I’d have gotten it, and come home with it, pointed it right at you, shaking, and pulled the trigger?
I reckon it would have just been in the foot or the leg though, nothing too serious, because after all, I do love you. Plus I calmed down quite quickly.
You didn’t get mad or think I was crazy, and that disconcerts me. I think we could do with a holiday or something, get away from this place for a while. I wish I could reach you more than I do, but you’re tumbling and all I can do is wait to heal you when you return and need me. I can’t shield you, you’re not a child.
But yeah, anyway, I was so so totally going to shoot you that night.
Don’t forget how loved you are, be careful out there, I’ll see you later. We’ll be ok, one day, you know. It’s all got to come to a conclusion eventually it has to have an outcome. It can’t all be for nothing.
I’ve bumped into this guy, right, and he makes my head do weird shit. I never knew anything quite like this before. Apparently its called ‘Vole’ or ‘Levo’ or something…