I miss you.
A lot, a lot.
Yes, I know I’m smothering you.
Yes, I know you need to breathe, but can’t you be breathing within a closer proximity?
It’s only been five days since I’ve seen you, and you’ve been sweet enough to call me and listen to my delusional rants and pointless chatter…
But that doesn’t mean I actually got to spend time with you.
School will be impossible to last through.
I’ve gotten to the point of being willing to clone your sexy self to keep by my side at all times.
I’ll stuff you into my trunk after dosing you with enough horse tranquilizer to put you in a coma for several weeks.
In this time, I will convince everyone that you died in a horrible accident and set up a crime scene involving an 18 wheeler and a homeless person of your size. His sacrifice will be for the greater good, and will be remembered throughout history under your tombstone.
Assuming the body will be so deformed, and my manipulative convictions so grand, an autopsy will not be required and you will be proclaimed dead.
After two weeks (you are still in your coma, mind you) the world will be grieving and accepting the death of the most handsome and brilliant and caring and perfect human being ever to live.
During this time, I will say my grief is so great that I must keep away and recover in my cave.
There I will concoct a substance that will replicate the effects of mild amnesia, forcing you to forget your social life and social behaviors.
However, you will not forget your skills and talents and the sorts.
I will then inject this formula into your blood stream daily until you wake from your coma.
Upon waking, I will convince you that you are a run away from a laboratory and that I was one of the researches who could not put up with what they wanted to do to you.
Telling you the elaborate story of how I had escaped with you will get your trust and hopefully your affection.
I will convince you to flee the state with me and to change our names for our safety.
Settling in Southern Canada or New York or Washington State, you and I will assume the identity of one of twenty newly wed couples I murdered prior to your drugging. They were douchebags, so it’s all good, and they had no families so keeping up this reputation will be a cinch.
After convincing you to begin programming, you and I will open up a large industry dealing with technical advancements.
You will be happy living a life working as the CEO and co-founder of this company, and within time it will bloom to an industry greater than even Gate’s.
Now you may think that family and friends may notice our disappearances. Don’t worry, I’ve got this. With meticulous planning, they all assume I committed suicide after not being able to cope with the grief. They will find traces of my body near a construction site, covered in cement. They will think little of trying to match prints considering that I had left a detailed note about my death. You are already dead so now you and I have nothing to connect us back to California.
We will use a massive logo and stay out of media and press conferences, or use lackeys for our multi-million international business so that we do not risk exposure.
Convinced that the fake research lab is still searching for you, you and I will be forced to keep together to keep our location as hidden and minimal as possible.
You will be happy doing what you love, and I won’t miss you anymore because you’ll be at my side, fearing that the research institute will kidnap and or kill you.
This method is easier than some of the other methods I’ve come up with, and doesn’t involve a cloning machine that would create some horrible rift in our relationship.