klairchen As you stabbed me in the back, I knew that I would still be here.

The pain was tangable and manageable.

I writhed in agony for awhile, but it felt logical and good.

The wound would heal, and I'd have a pretty scar to show in the future when my words became unsufficient.

It would be a story to tell.

But ah, when you stabbed me in the heart, that was a different story.

Oh, I writhed in pain yes.

I could never touch it or manage it.

The wound was much too deep.

And the resulting twisting and turning sent me in the opposite direction I was already heading.

It put me in the place where you thought I should be.

Perhaps I should have seen it coming.

Perhaps I should never have trusted that you would have a bandaid.
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