They never would understand. It's not like Johnny didn’t like what he did. He wouldn’t do it if he didn’t. He had no regrets. There wasn’t an opportunity he felt he’d missed. It was the one that didn’t come knocking that he would seek. He had everything he needed and more, and he was content. He didn’t want more of what there was. It was that he thought life itself should have more to offer. He wanted what he didn’t know existed.
Johnny the lover died yesterday. He died knowing he wasn’t understood.
He knew that he’d be missed for the person he was and thought it ironic
that they should miss what he was without recognising who he was. Johnny
walked out the door last night never to return. In a way, the loner killed
himself. I don’t miss him. Soon they all won’t anymore. I knew Johnny.
He wanted to be understood though I realised he was never meant to be.
That’s why I killed him.