Roger-
I'm sorry. I tried so hard. I really did. I didn't want this. All I ever wanted to do was make you happy. Do you remember when you joked that I could stand to lose a few pounds? I dieted, watched my weight, and lost ten pounds. Then you said you worried about how skinny I was. What do I have to do to make you happy? What will fucking satisfy you! Sorry. It's not you I'm mad at. It's just that…I want…This is hard.
Fine Roger, this is what I want to say: I have AIDS. We have AIDS. I don't know how we got it, probably the drugs, but I don't know for sure. The point is that we are dying and you know it. I mean, how couldn't you? We are dying and you keep ignoring all the signs. Last spring, you got that really bad fever. I thought you were going to die, but you didn't. We got lucky. We've gotten lucky a lot. But it won't last. I mean, for god's sake! Look at how we live! We don't live the healthiest of lifestyles and we can't afford medical bills.
This is for the best, Roger. I don't want to waste away, dying painfully and slowly. I don't want to watch you waste away, until you can't hold a can of soda, let alone your guitar. This way, I don't have to do that. It's best for everyone. It may not seem like it after…everything, but it is. I don't want to die in a hospital.
I love you.
As she pulled the trigger, Mimi thought for a second that maybe she was being rash. But then the bullet was fired and Mimi didn't think anything anymore.
