Still here, alive, nothing works. I'd be lying if I say I'm moving on. Nothing moves on. I yearn and yearn. Constantly. I torture myself endlessly, banging my head on solid ground. Is it because I am so deeply in love with her? It's brutal, this love is. My love for her, I feel, is eternal. What was done was done, Amie. Nothing else matters, and I'd give up everything to be with her one last chance -- not that I haven't already -- and yet, all is seemingly lost. Lost like a falling petal in a forest with no one in sight. Like a bird caught swimming in a swamp, haunted by the ghouls of the arborical bogs that catches our hero unawares.
Dark, darker, darkest, there is no difference. All hurts the same. Pain, everlasting, lingering. Pain, day and night. The hours are uncertain. Anything can happen now. Thinking about it hurts. Truth is unreliable. The romance is dead. My heart, it is lost. Unrecoverable, hateful, distrusting. Wishful, perhaps, but I have lost everything before and survived still. This one was special. So special. Embittered, the tip of my tongue tastes. The flavour of my life. Cuisine of kitchens unwanted. It burns, to the heart. I do not understand. I do not understand.