Comet to the Sun
You fell like a comet for a sun; you haven't yet escaped its gravity.
What sort of friendship could be truer than one based on mutual fear, pain, and misunderstanding?
I speak of course of one based on the love that you never almost had.
You know she could never be happy with you for the rest of her life, but you bloody well can't stop caring, can you?
Why do you do this to yourself, you pathetic twit?
Like an ignoble character from a Greek tragedy, an Achilles, a Jason.
It's a natural force, thermodynamic entropy.
Everything breaking down, and she, your path of least resistance.
Bloody, bloody, bloody hell.
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