I am stuck looking in your direction for comfort and healing, hoping and praying that one day all the bullshit will end. However deep in the back of my mind I know that things will be very uncomfortable for sometime. Yet I still gaze on that spot that I threw you out on, sometimes wishing, hoping, and praying that you will eventually float back to mi. In one piece or in the multiple shards that were left as your remains after my brutal attack on your heart. That duct taped black plastic bag should still be in one piece after two years of floating at sea. Just to think of how your remains have decayed or either soured like fine wine as they softened in that oxygen restricted makeshift casket! But I believe in miracles and fate so pull an elite jesus and solidify yourself and comeback after 3 years!