When I was a kid, Clint wants to say, I used to dream about growing up to a life like you see on TV, like in the movies, like the happy families that came to watch my act. It was all I had, a mouthy kid with a bow and arrow to his name, a life on the road and no one to call home—I wanted the dog and the white picket fence, the pretty wife and the smiling kids. I would lie in bed at night and imagine it, my perfect, normal life, with my perfect, normal wife, and I am so glad you are not that person, Natasha, I am so glad to have been wrong. Because there is nothing perfect about you, there has never been even one perfect thing about you; you are sharp and deadly and dangerous and fucked up, you are a murder weapon and a blast radius, you are the most honest liar I have ever met and thank god, because I don’t want you to be perfect and I don’t want this to be perfect and I don’t want us to be perfect. I want you to be as you are and I want this to be as it is and I want us to be a murder weapon and a blast radius and the most honest lie I’ve ever told, because you are my best friend and my last straw and everything I could never have known I wanted, because I couldn’t have dreamed you, Natasha, I couldn’t have even come close. And if that’s too much I mean it anyway, and if it’s not enough then tell me what will be. Tell me where I have to go or what I have to do, because I don’t want to be a better person or a worse one, Tasha, I just want to be your person, because you are enough for me and too much for me and I will never stop loving you, no matter what happens, no matter the price.




