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I saw him. I saw the man that the woman who I love is in love with. I saw him walking down the street the little worm. I was ready. he doesn't deserve her, and i'm going to hurt him. I try to avoid thinking about how he gets to hold her soft warm hands, caress her cheek, and even god forbid kiss her.
I pulled out my aluminum baseball bat and I’m gonna hit a home run today. What I did was stake out her place on 12th street and I waited for him to start showing up, I just needed to do it without her near. When I saw him walking toward her door, I opened the car, got out, and the little peon didn't even hear me. I took one big swing and that's all it took for him to hit the ground with a small thud, his head spilling blood onto the concrete. the street air was still with silence, no witnesses. the perfect crime. There he was, I wonder if with that much head trauma if he even remembered his on name. What exactly did I do to this man?
Blood pooled under his head, I admired my work for a short time before I made for his belongings . I threw his phone into the middle of the street and threw his wallet in the trash. I hope the sucker is dead but if he does awake his life will be very very inconvenient. I keep thinking about the crimson red contrasted against the white pavement, it was art, I was an artist.
As I drove away I still envied him. I envied the pain he was in with his head caved in, being in that state is preferable than having the pain of unrequited love with the most beautiful, charming, talented, and captivating woman in all of DC. I imagine her perfect face no longer smiling screaming at the sight of her little unimpressive boyfriend maimed in front of her house. I imagine she’ll be at his unremarkable funeral but she wont go to mine, she will never be by my side, she will never know how much she means to me, how much of my day i spend thinking of her, dreaming of her, how i hope she drops a line every night and my disappointment when she doesn’t. I don’t know maybe there was a better way to cope than this.