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It was nights like this that I found myself missing Johnny. My love, Nancy, was wrapped in my arms, but it didn't feel right. She was frail and nimble, tho' she was a beauty, she wasn't Johnny. Nancy is a cruel fella... I love her, I really do, but she ain't a cupcake. I'm not the sharpest tool ever, and Johnny ain't the most polite person ever, but he's an angry sod. He hates the world at times as much as he hates himself.
Johnny and I woke up random mornings cuddlin' each other, tho' neither knew how we got there. It was always awkward afterwards- but then he cracked a joke and it all went swell. There's no awkward with Nancy. She's a sexual wire, if you touch her, it's too late. Almost lika trap.
Plus, she kinda tosses me around. Not that I'd ever leave her, but Johnny made me feel loved. He whispered in my ear a lot, sayin' "I love you, Sidney" and then actin' as if he didn't approach me at all. Or that one time he groped my arse when he "fell." (One time was a lot more times back when we lived together.) He was a sneaky bastard. But he'd never admit to my face he loved me. Only when I was caught off guard.
Nancy says she loves me, but each time she starts gettin' sour I doubt her.
Johnny still loves me. If he didn't, he wouldn't hate Nancy and call her a stinky cunt. He wouldn't stare at me when I drape my arm over her. And he never, ever, became a bastard to me for no reason.
Maybe I'm not giving Nancy credit. She's great.
Or maybe I'm in love with Johnny, and the dimple he has when he says, "Sidney." And the dimple he always has when he looks at me and the way he plays his music really loud and the way music is his life.
But because Nancy doesn't have these qualities, doesn't mean I can't be with her. Love rarely kills, right?