If you were to drown, I think I'd laugh. Maybe I'd hold your head down in the water, making sure the chemicals do their trick; that the only time you ever rise back up is when you're an empty corpse filled with pool water, fished out from the deep end of the pool by one of those minimum-wage pool boys you love to mess around with.

You have a fiery personality. People like that about you, but I don't. I don't think it's funny to light a match in front of someone's face, fully knowing that they almost died in a fire when they were young. I don't think it's cute to lead a guy on for years. If you were to drown, I'd like to watch you sink into the water, watch the clear, chlorine water fill your lungs and extinguish the flame inside you. Maybe that'd shut you up.

You always roll your eyes at me. Never anyone else, just me. Why? Don't go on ignoring me again. I can't wait to see your eyes close one last time, a prolongued blink for the rest of eternity. Or maybe your eyes'll stay open, staring at me from under the water as I watch your eyes roll back into your purple head.

Of course, this is all hypothetical. I'd be absolutely miserable if people thought I would let you drown on my watch!

But maybe, if you stop floundering about for one second and shut up, I could make it look like an accident.