When you were at the trough of your time, the peak of your time, you are the #1 torment #1 petulance to me. Now I remember.
I remember the time you were being forlorn doing every thing we wanted you to do. At the point you were so rude as to saying something like you guys all stand on the byline like everything is easy. How easy can you say that! When you are not even fighting. It’s just been me fighting alone! That got me, when I was also at the trough of my time, the peak of my time, supporting your fighting. (In retrospect, yeah you are right. How can you not? Just you’ve been fighting. No matter how bad I wanted to join that fight. The situation only allowed, and still allows, you the one and only to fight, stopping us from getting into the ring. Just standing on the byline, as if saying every fucking thing is easy. How easy.
No matter how bad I wanted to fight with you. After all it’s a boxing, not a wresting. It’s a real thing. Not an acting thing.
Right at the time you said this how easy thing, I could stand no more and retorted, “how dare you say that! How can you treat me like bystander, like other bystanders, while I’m here fighting with you!" That got you. You cried a brand new cry I had never seen you. It’s literally a burst into cry. A sudden pop out cry. Like I was the one who bullied you. Like a bad headmaster bullies a teacher with the worst of all insults. Like I was being a dickhead. A master. A Dickheadmaster. A portmanteau. Like I was the #1 torment #1 petulance to you. Now I remember.
When we love each other, we are the #1 torment #1 petulance to each other.
The more we love each other, the more dickheadmaster we become to each other.
What the fuck.