Grown up? Me? I suppose I have. Killing things, and almost killing myself, must have changed me some, after all.
Loss is loss. Doesn't take death to create it.
But then, my entire life is bullshit. The best things in it have vanished, ghosts. Ghosts I'll admit I created.
Think of how they must have loved when all they had was each other.
Funny thing about the monster. The worse he treats you, the more you love him.
Love is for children and dimwads.