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I haven't told him that I still have nightmares. A different one each night. Sometimes he goes with her and while I hate him for it, the one I really hate is myself. Sometimes I shoot him and the bullet paralyzes him. Once it killed him.

It. Not me. As if the gun was alive.

Usually he stays, because of me. He stays and resents me for stopping him. Then he takes my gun, and I find his body. It's like that bullet had his name on it one way or the other.

Fate? God? Chance?

I don't know anymore.