Female Rejection.

I'm so wary of standing alone. Before it was for the honor. Because no one else could weather the abuse. Because I was needed to. But everyone forgets I'm there. That I'm alone, waiting for the End Times. They forget that a player is still in the game. A soldier still on the field. That there is still hope. My sacrifices and losses become their blessings and salvations. But how long do I have to remain? How long do I have to fight? When do we have victory? When do I get to stand down? And will there be anyone left to greet me when I do? Or will they all passed. Long lives, happy lives. Given through my sacrifices. Only for the briefest of moments do I weaver and falter. Then I stamp my foot and roar to the opposition. I will not fail. I will not quit. You can't make me move. As much as it hurts, you can't stop me.

Thank you. But I meant I love you. She'll never know the truth, I'll never admit. So much I have to burden, so much the world doesn't realize. I do it for them. I do it for her. I do it for me. It is my punishment as the villain. For having broken him, for not being there with him. I'm sorry. Atlas shrugged, but I just carry more. I see my place in life; my rebellion for so long to what I knew was coming. Fate. Destiny. It matters not to me how defined something is. I shake my fist, not because I believe it would do anything, I shake my fist because I can. And it can't stop me. That's my power. My grace. My failing. And the theme rolls back around. Thanks D.K. , thanks T.