Like I said in my previous post, I injured my hamstring while playing paintball recently, and now I’m stuck with a bum leg and a wicked limp for the next month and a half. Tonight while sorting my laundry, I pulled my paintball jersey out of the pile of clean clothing, and I put it on just for fun. As you might already know, I’m the kind of guy who wears his heart on his sleeve. I make it known when I feel something deeply enough. Tonight, as I stood there wearing my paintball jersey in the center of my modest living room, I felt something, and I simply had to let it out. Strictly as a matter of unfortunate coincidence, Diana happened to be there, too.
Kevin: Oh, Paintball. I love you so much, even when you hurt me. [grunting and wincing] Ah, it hurts when I try to stretch out my leg. I’d do it for you, though, Paintball. I’d stretch out my leg if you asked me to.
Diana: Shut the hell up. I’m trying to read.
Kevin: I’m not talking to you, Diana. I’m talking to Paintball. Where were we, Paintball? Oh yeah, I love you, Paintball. You would never hurt me as badly as Diana would. I would give you the sun, the moon, the stars, and the muscles and tendons attached to the posterior of my femur.
Diana: [Sprays Kevin with a water bottle, which is primarily used to discipline our cats]
Kevin: Hey, what the hell? What did I do to you?
Diana: I’m trying to read.
Kevin: And I’m trying to love Paintball. We all have problems.
Diana: [Sprays Kevin in the face]
Kevin: You see what I have to put up with, Paintball? At least you fight with honor. You would never shoot an unarmed man in the face — especially an unarmed man who is injured, and who’s not wearing a mask. Some people just don’t understand the “blind man” rule. You understand though, Paintball.
Diana: [Sprays Kevin in the face…repeatedly] I hate you so much sometimes.
Kevin: I can’t even place my faith in the woman I love anymore. You’re all I’ve got, Paintball. Don’t ever change.
Diana: Jesus Christ. You win. I’m going to the other room.
Kevin: Sorry, what was that, Diana? I was talking to Paintball.
Lately, it seems like a lot of my conversations with Diana end with her leaving the room. That’s weird. I wonder what Paintball would have to say about that. Or hell, I don’t know. Maybe I should just ask Helen Hunt instead.
Four to six more weeks to go. That may not seem like a long time to some people, but it’s ages in KZ time. I need you, Paintball. I don’t cope very well when I’m confronted with boredom. I wonder if that comes across at all in my writing.
You kids crack me up! Don’t forget to try some extra support with an ace bandage… try to keep stuff from shifting.
Also… balls.
No, it doesn’t come across in your writing. At. All.
Why do I have a feeling you could have dropped the first 6 words from the title and been more accurate? 4 to 6 more weeks?! Diana, if you’re reading this, stay strong girl! And write me at nicky at weworkforcheese dot com. I’d like to explain to you how to record a ringtone.
You should do the same thing when Diana has a similar conversation with her 3DS in the near future. 😉