Thank you, V. Frankenstein

You've wounded me much more than you think you have; this pain isn't all because of you; this fury and wrath aren't born from your treason; this disgust and disappointment have infested these veins and heart much before you- God, am I the modern Prometheus? Cursed to the same torture every day, just because I exuded eternal love?- but, I have to dismiss you from my life. Disillusionment has painted everything a terrible shade of jade, and I no longer can withstand the adversity of pain. I want to crumble, totally, and fall before man. I want my fall to be shown to the world as an example of a distraught figure, scratched by the world's truths; I want to publish my pains; I want to yell my pains; I want to relieve the world of its pains, ever so slightly, by relieving my own pains. Solitude is that which I seek. Solitude and beautiful reclusion.