If anyone ever asks me now, what happened to you and me, I laugh bitterly and recount the story of Samson and Delilah; where Samson is me and Delilah is you, but in this case, the secret of Samson's strength is the softness of his heart, and Delilah has a knife in one hand and a gun in the other.
I tell them how I laid my head in your lap and you stroked my hair telling me I was the softest thing you ever knew; then calmly shot me through the chest and knifed me open to take my heart and sell to those that bid you to.
I would ask you how you could do this to someone you once promised to protect. But I know the answer well and it's this:
Cowards and thieves only take a shot at someone who they believe is too trusting and too surprising to protect themselves.
But I have a surprise for you too, my love.
Despite your best attempt, I'm not dead yet.
I have gunpowder in my chest instead of a heart now and it escapes my lips in the shape of a bullet with your name on it.
Soft people become dangerous when you destroy the thing they hold dearest.