******** Hypoxia

  June 13th, 2018 by kirlin.blair

If you let me fall in love with you like I want to, I’d do anything for you. I mostly want to massage you, eat you out, give you the best food and drink, and remember the smallest things about your personality.

I’d even help you enact a painless and undetectable suicide, if you were completely sure that’s what you wanted. It’s your right and I would never assert otherwise. I would bury your secret and cover it with a nonplussed veneer. I signed up for the whole woman with all her flaws and self-doubt, just so I could find joy in giving. Obviously I’d rather give head.

You know as well as I do that forming a specific, actionable plan is one of the better cures for the “I want to die” pity party. That shit’s as played out as psychology: sunlight, vegetables, and oral sex all work better than SSRIs and a chaise longue.

But she doesn’t want it and I’ve never met anyone else who’s so fully and beautifully articulated. I doubt I ever will because everyone just gets fatter and dumber over time.

Fuck it, I’m bored and tired. I’ll try electroshock and emigration to see if that helps me forget. Alcohol doesn’t any more.

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