"Mrs. Lovett, you're a bloody wonder, eminently practical and yet appropriate as always."
This is my final headache.
I was not born to dote, not born to breathe for you.
I had other opportunities, other loves.
Other heartaches.
I get my own dinner, I clean my own space. I take care of the dog, and I pay my rent. I file taxes every year. I hardly drive above the speed limit. I have stamps.
Stamps.
An ordinary life for an extraordinary faith. Faith that he will love. Faith that he will forget.
Faith for first choice.
I want to remember and to be remembered. I am selfish, I am hasty, I am ignorant. Praying to be better, and sleeping in until noon. Hoping for blue skies, and wearing all black. Contradictory to beauty, yet standing for just that.
He loved very little and I loved to pretend I was part of it.
"How I've lived without you all these years, I'll never know."
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