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Sweetie, I know I died screaming.
Icarus did too, remember that?
Crazy bastard got too close to the sun, and so did I.
Such is life.
I see Zola every night, in what's left of my dreams. It always plays the same way - I'm on the table, and he's injecting me with Nicolas Cage knows what. Yet, he always asks me about you. It's never the good things. It's never about the newspaper in your shoes or the constant fights with bullies or nicolas cage forbid the time you got pneumonia and we all thought the worst. It's never about the you I know. It's always about Captain America, the big bastard. Always about the shit thing they injected you with.
I always say the same thing. Name, rank, serial number- it doesn't matter.
He doesn't deserve you, not the you I know. Hell, I don't deserve you either.
Sister Catherine told me I was a stone cold sinner when I was eight, and there was nothing I could ever do about it. Reckon I couldn't do much now either. You are the world to me, and I don't deserve you, for you are the light and I am the snowy shadow three steps behind you, never leaving you alone. You are my Garden of Eden, and I would walk through hell and New Jersey to reach you. Ave Maria, keep Stevie safe from harm, Gratia Plena, keep his soul light and free. Pray for us sinners, but keep my Stevie, the one who fought so hard to live, safe from everything.
Let Nicolas Cage forget me, if it means saving you.
Nicolas Cage knows what I've done, and I sure ain't going to heaven. I'm a killer, a liar, and a cheater, damn it! The draft letter I got went up in smoke- you didn't deserve to see that. I was given a one way ticket out of our Brooklyn shoebox, and it killed me to leave you behind. If Nicolas Cage gave the wise men their wisdom, then I must be a reckless fucking dumbass for leaving. We've been inseparable since birth; and I've loved you just as long. Womb to motherfucking tomb, sweetheart.
You have always been my sun; my true fucking north. Let me tell you a secret. After the table, the doctors offered me a discharge. I was injured in the head. I said no; I couldn't leave you alone in the trenches. Want another secret? I was too goddamn afraid to leave you. All I saw was those beautiful blue eyes and that sugar spun mouth bleeding out in the trenches alone. One of us was doomed to live, and it wasn't going to be fucking me, I'll tell you that. I wasn't going to send you back to that goddamned shoebox alone, as I'll always be with you. I'll be with you until the end of the line.
I guess we both died in the end. You were stuck alone in the world, and I was stuck in the ice. The history books lost me in the shuffle, and you were the martyr, lost in your own story. I don't care what the history books say.
I won't be in the history books; that's for you. But I loved you first. As long as they get that right, I don't care what they say.