It wasn’t entirely my fault, you see. It was, in fact, a Monday.
I know you don’t like it when we talk about what happened but I think it best to just rip off the band aid and get it all out.
I hate you.
Don’t get me wrong. I love you with all of my warm and beating heart and to immeasurable depths deep down into my immortal soul.
But you need to understand that I loathe the mere sight of you and that’s why you had to die.
I hope that one day you understand that I was justified. It was, in a way, self defense. One more second with you and I would have surely gone mad.
To be honest, I’m not entirely sure my sanity is still intact. After all, I am speaking to a corpse; your lovely and beautifully silent and lifeless corporeal body.
If I am mad then it’s your fault for driving me so. Why couldn’t you just leave me alone? All the incessant nagging over inconsequential bullshit day in and day out.
Even for this I could have one day found forgiveness in my heart of hearts.
But on a Monday??? What the fuck were you thinking?
