Time. There could never be enough to adequately determine the significance of the impact you have had upon me. I look at you, and I think, This is love. But is it? There is a stirring in my heart that says it is so. Why then, does my soul remain so black? Looking up from this latest kill, her eyes so dull now, I am reminded of how much this will hurt you. I look within for answers, but find cold comfort in my divinations. The path we tread upon is short. I will be the end of us both.