Why can't you just let me be happy. . .

You always fuck everything up.

You could beg her back.

You love her. . .you know you do.

More than you've loved most.

The ghost didn't even have half of her qualities.

Now, you have nothing.

And it's time isn't it?

Time to self-destruct.

(If any of you want to give me advice, you can shove it. No offense.)