Love Differences 3

Yet another scream was heard, and the old man was kind of glad he wasn't arruosed anymore of hearing another couple make love nearby. Or anything else for that matter. If so, the neighbour and his new girlfriend would have kept him awake several nights in a row now, loud as they where.
No, at this age, he thought to himself, only real love can get me up and going.
He smiled, and thought on about his great loss three years ago. Seemed like then.
A milage can be rough, he wispered, well knowing of how senile he appered to be to his kids talking to himself. But it didn't matter, since the relationship was as steriotypical as it could be. They never saw him anymore. The only odd thing was that he couldn't care for the lack of love they showed, just knowing they actualy still did. And that they would indeed miss him when he passed away, and probably regret not paying more attention, wisiting more often, and call more.
Maybe i aught to write that down on a note, he thought out loud, already on his way to the kitchen. For the sake of peace when i die. The latter, he did not say out loud, but he heard the last word echoing in his mind, as another scream from the other side of the wall echoed in his ears. He lost his balance for a minutte, filled with these sounds, and grabbed on to the first thing his hand found. Unfortunatly, seventysix years earlier when he got a little wound on his knee, playing with some other kids, he discovered the reaction he had to blood.
He still had that reaction, and realising he had grabbed the knives hanging from over the stove, he just stood still for a minutte, not looking on his hand.
He felt after any pain, but knew his sences was a bit blurry with the years, and that the shock would have delayed the pain for a little time. By now he felt an imense amount of stress, and had to sit down. With his hand held behind him, he walked slowly to the livingroom, and fell into the couch. The world swurrled in front of him, his head was incredably heavy, and he felt tired.
At the finger roots, he could see some white bone. Two of the fingers had deep cuts on three places, and the blood was pumping with the beat of his pulse. He knew a second before he fainted he was going to bleed to death, as none would miss him in a few day. But there was no sad old man that lost conciousness. He saw his loved one in the end of the light, waving at him.

Finaly.