[Subject is wearing hooded sweatshirt. It is snowing. Subject is distraught.]
So, that's it then, huh? I don't even know why, or what, or anything about you. This was just a job for you, right? All those dates and movies and trips we took, for what? I thought you cared and you're always, [subject tries to snatch recorder from my hand, fails] always recording me. It's like we can't share anything and just keep it to ourselves, we can't--
[Subject hit the recorder out of my hand. Stopped recording for fifteen minutes. Continued recording from the inside of my jacket pocket. Subject is crying. Audio may sound muffled.]
... I just don't get it, you know? You get [inaudible] and you feel things you told yourself you would never [inaudible]. And now, look at where we're at. Do you know what I have to deal with, now? This is your job, right? But this is my fucking life [name redacted]. I have to keep coming to [inaudible] and I don't even know what this is for.
What the fuck is this for? Goddamn. I trusted you. I trusted you.
[end of interview]