This is a work of fiction. Any connections to the real world is merely coincidence.
At least, I like to tell myself that.
My outlook on the world has always been bleak.
That is… until I met you.
I wrote...
I wrote, and wrote.
I wrote some more and then some.
Countless stories, some of which I published, many of which I didn't and only you were privy to.
All for you.
My raison d'être who died too young.
Can I keep writing without you here?
What's the point? Within the short day you've been gone I've asked myself countless times.
Can I really keep my goddess wife? Can I keep her away from the overpowered main character known as time? Of course not.
I was summoned as a hero? Hah! Don't make me laugh, I'm just a demon who'll be stabbed in the heart countless times till I fall to my knees and die a painful death in vain. At least that's how I felt when I watched your struggle. Could I ever become the hero in your world? Never, because you can't be saved. You're already gone.
My psychotic ghost girlfriend. A title where I wouldn't want you to understand how it slowly drove me to insanity watching you get weaker as you approached your death. You were my inspiration, but you were also like a ghost that constantly plagued me. As we approached the end of your life I faced the horror of our reality every day.
There was no happy ending by the end of it all. In the end I thought of countless complex multi layered layered stories that I just didn't have the time to complete while you were alive.
I didn't want you to notice what my stories hid till the very end. All I wished for was to make you laugh, but it hurts all the same.
I loved the way you lived, laughing free and unrestrained.
Despite your condition you read them to the very end.
This is the painful story of how I came to write comedy to make a single girl laugh.
A hospitalized woman who I came to love deeply will simply fade into obscurity without anyone to remember her.
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