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He had never felt a burn so deep
One to bring his heart so close to failure.
It wasn't the action of another but his own.

Her eyes were pouring rain,

You don't love me-
You don't love me anymore?

I don't.

But what about everything-
You love me.

She reached her hand from her face and desperately moved unto him as if she were falling. 

He avoided her without hesitation; her hand fell short as he shuffled back. His actions defined her as a rejected, shameful, unwanted creature. She fell back to the bed hysterically emptying her once fulfilled life into tears and wails of grief.

 

Speaking without an ounce of emotion, he affirmed,
I don't love you.

He looked unto her as he felt worse then he ever did in his entire life. He felt every tear, every action, as a whip tearing flesh from his body. In every ounce of grief she felt he felt the same, because he knew they were one. He thought to himself as his hand was in the fire,

"She deserves to lash out on me and I am to receive every bit of agony she will possess. This is the decision I have chosen, and I will follow it through despite how I love her."

As a machine solely created for affliction, he forever burned a scarring pain unto her heart. But I knew the decision was the best for both of us.