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Dear Suicide Casualty,
You may have taken your own life, but I will
be damned if you take away my chance to be your Valentine this year! I had my
eyes set on you weeks before you shoved that double-barreled shotgun into your
mouth, and nothing will come in between us. Nothing! Not even death’s delicate
and beautiful touch.
Sure, your face is barely classifiable as a
face since that giant shell full of buckshot ripped through your skull,
leaving bits and pieces of flesh sticking to the walls of your kitchen.
Nothing a little makeup can't fix, right honey?
Look, the lower 90% of your
body is relatively untouched. I’ll be fine as long as I stay clear of the area
where your head used to be. I promise you, I can look past all of this to see
what’s inside of you, anyway.
I'm picking you up tonight at 8. And don't
you dare stand me up, or so help me God, I will kill myself, too.
Yours even in death,
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