We went on our first date when I was just a boy. We were basically married from that moment on, lives tied together no matter what.
I’d say that we were always happy, but it was mainly me who was happy. She knew how to get under my skin, and how to dig deep enough that it only hurt a little bit.
People used to say we were basically one in the same, but they don’t know how wrong they were. They based movies and stories on us, epics and adventures which weren’t true but should’ve been, if we’d had more time together.
None of them were scary stories, and people soon forgot about me. I didn’t have time to forget, since she killed me so fast.
But she remembers the truth for both of us now.