He was giving up on keeping me alive, letting nature–or rather mob justice–take its course. When he returned, and I was dead, he wouldn’t hold anyone responsible. He would not mourn. All this I could hear in those three words.
I don’t want you to leave Which is exactly why I should. But don’t worry. I’m essentially a selfish creature. I crave your company too much to do what I should.
Stop being so optimistic, its getting on my nerves. No problem. Do you want me to be all gloom and doom or just shut up? Just shut up. Can do. Really? Doesn’t seem like it.
