What would have happened if we were loved?
Would we be someone else?
Would I be in my mansion, having used my smarts for the better?
Would I not be running from the police?
Miserable and alone
Some people take love for granted
Probably because I've never had it.
But I don't blame other people.
I wouldn't love myself.
I don't love myself.
Miserable Miserable Miserable
I hate myself.
I hate my life.
Should I end it all?
I want to have love in this life first.
I walk through rainy streets, lonely and sad.
A dog runs up to me.
It follows me.
It's a small little thing, white with black spots. Starving.
I pick it up. It's a boy.
"I promise, little guy, that you will have a good life"
It's young and alone.
I know how it feels.
I take it back to my place; a mangy apartment that the police would never look for.
I get a part-time job. How?
Because I pass as a high-school student. I'm only twenty.
I buy the dog dog food and a bed. He likes to sleep with me, though. I name him Woody.
It's been five years. The police have stopped looking for me. Woody is the love of my life.
I love him like a son. He saved me.
Maybe I'm glad that I never got love.
It wouldn't matter, anyway.
I've still got love to give.