I can’t go on with this little thread we dare to call romance, my dear. I love you, but everytime you step way, I feel like falling into an abyss – falling and praying for my own death.
-But oh!, my dear, how dare you talk like you should be nowhere near me? Can’t our love overcome the strugle of dealing with your lonely existence during those short periods of time when I’m not here?
-Our love can overcome any obstacle, so I hear and so I have seen been proven true, but how can I face the pain of loneliness? How can I erase the suicidal ideas that invade my mind during those sad times away from you?
-My love, my truly and only beloved one, you only have to remember that soon I’ll be back for you, as I am with you at this very moment.
-And these are the most delightful moments of all…
-You say it right, my love.
-Forgive me for my lack of confidence baby…
-and promise me we’ll always be together.
-We will. Always.
… and so goes the story of Sir Sniffsalot and Lady Chopalyne.