“It’s a good thing I have such a calming effect,” the soldier said, one hand on his chest, the other outstretched and his voice, pontificating.

“You call screaming bloody murder at the top of your lungs, calming? This a calming advantage you provide me?”

He laughed. “Well, P, when you go off like a slingshot, I follow. If you’re enraged, I get enraged myself.”

“I see. You yelling is my fault. I am sure all the people in your history would agree with that. The bastard never raised his voice until he met her.” We both laughed. “What I wonder is why you put up with it? Why do you put up with such a crazy if you’re so… regular.”

“I’m bound, that’s why. I am bound to you by love, I’ve never been bound like this in my life,” he said. “I now know what all those Elvis chain songs are about because I feel just like that. It’s like being bound with a chain. P, I am bound to you, there is nothing I can do.”

“I’m not feeling very sorry for you, ya know. Somehow I don’t feel sorry for you one bit. See this face,” I said, framing mine with my thumb and my forefinger. “This is a face that lacks compassion for your plight. I just have a hard time feeling sorry for the biggest mouth on the planet complaining about my smaller, less significant mouth of a girl.”

On that, I blinked my lashes while he bemoaned my lack of understanding of his horrible life condition… big ol’ rhino trap he done stepped on.