“Here are three things that I know are true, unranked by order of importance:
When you are stabbed, you’re supposed to keep the blade in so you don’t bleed out.
I’m very bad at saying ‘I love you’.
We know more about the moon than we do the ocean.
Some footnotes about each of these:
I have never been stabbed, nor have I known anyone who has been stabbed.
Of course, I can say it, I just never feel like I mean it.
By ‘we’, I don’t mean myself, but oceanographers and astronomers that have pooled their collective knowledge and drawn the above conclusion.
I know a good amount of other things, but these three in specific have an unwelcome place in my twisting chest. Why does getting stabbed hurt twice? Why can’t an act of good just be that? Why do we know less about something I could touch right now, if I pleased? None of this sits right with me. Does it sit right with you?
I think you should put that knife down. It hurts you twice, you know. Here, I’ll hold onto it for you. I’ve got a great spot for it.
Oh, God. I hope it hurts less on the way out.
Can I tell you about the ocean? I know more about the ocean than I do the moon. Would you mind if I talked about the ocean for a while? Please. Please let me talk about something else.
I’m sorry I took your knife. Is that what you want to here? I’m sorry I took your knife, and I’m sorry I stuck it in my chest, and I’m sorry I’m getting blood on the sand. It just looked like you might do something stupid, like put it in your throat, and I don’t want you to die like that. Okay? I’m sorry. Will you look at me now? I don’t understand why you’re angry. Look at me. Look at me. I just want to tell you about the ocean. Some fish can glow in the dark. Isn’t that interesting?
Please, I’ll say anything. I love you. See, I said it. I said it just for you.
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