How do you do it? How the fuck… I see you in my cross-hairs from time to time. Walking to and from that bloody clinic or where the fuck ever you work at. How aren’t you cracking? I’m going mad, I am.
Nearly out of fucking alcohol… all of it. Making it drag out as long as I can at this point. Haven’t been sober for what… s’been eleven days.. according t’ my phone. Eleven days of drinking to forget, but I fucking can’t. S’not working. How d’you forget the man that… And you.. two whole fucking weeks have passed. Two weeks and you’re back to work. Like he meant fucking nothing.
I should do it.
Pull the trigger one of these days.
If only I could hold my goddamn rifle straight.
If only my hands would stop fucking shaking.
Chess isn’t supposed to work like this y’know. With the two of us left on the board and both kings fallen. Checkmate my arse.
Fuck it all.
How d’you do it?
I need to know. I do. I really fucking do.