I’m filled with wistful sadness. I wish he was here. He’d hold the torch and put an arm around me, and it wouldn’t matter that I’m a little girly and scared, because he’d be by my side. And he only needles me because he’s scared of how fragile I am. The realization strikes me like a brick. That’s why he’s so protective. That’s why he’s such a dick when I try to be independent and is constantly talking about how women should be protected. He’s scared someone’s going to die and then the remaining mate will have to suffer like he has. Maybe I’ve been too mean to him.
Yeah def
