Sometimes I think I should just go die.

I think it less often than I used to do.

But even when it happens…I don’t think it very deeply.

Because there is this Wolf-creature who looks at me like he doesn’t know me anymore, and then turns and trots off in the snow.

But he does know, and I feel ashamed. And because we can’t be parted, I go with him and don’t die.

Because he wants to live more than I have ever wanted to die.

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