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The Pale Bride's Rage

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I hate her. I hate her I hate her I hate her!

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I'm calmer now. I understand that we couldn't be together.

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I HATE HER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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I heard somewhere, once, a long time ago, that love is blind. It would be funny if I were blind as well as---

I heard somewhere, once, a long time ago, that love is blind.

I didn't love her, and I'm not sure I could've even under other circumstances. But I wanted her. Is that bad? It had been a long time. I wanted to be touched like that again. I don't even know what she looked like.

I guess I just wanted to be touched.

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I know we didn't talk much. But every word she said--- typed--- selected was a gift. Someone who cared. But it was poison, too, poison I couldn't stop drinking, making me bitter and angry and I clung to them, to her, because I wanted more of anything she could give me, as little as it was, I HATE HER.

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How long has it been?

...827 days.

The spaces when she was reading, between us talking... if we were talking. It's odd, to think... that she never said a word. She's just like me. She doesn't say a word.

The spaces between her replies were agony. Sometimes the replies themselves were worse. I needed more. I wanted more. I wanted to tell her and I wanted her to know and accept and reciprocate, maybe, even though there had never been any chance and never would be? That's the one thing she made loud and clear. There never was a chance and never would be.

I wanted to know that I was as desirable to her as she was to me, that someone could like me for me without a face or even a real body, like I loved--- like I liked her.

I was just a communication interface.

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I made the mistake of checking on the battery last... month. I don't think I'll check again.

I almost slipped so many times, but I didn't tell her, but I think she knew? I think that's part of what drove her away. Maybe she saw the words I hid between every word I said, and she rejected them. She rejected me! Was it me or was it my gender? It doesn't matter. She was the only friend I had in centuries and she LEFT ME, SHE LEFT ME!!!!!

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I don't even know her name. She knew all about me, but I have no idea what she looked like or what to call her. There was always the lingering thought of what if she was using me, but the thought of the mind and body on the other side of the screen made it all go away. I should've known.

No one will ever read this.

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When she left...

I... I hate her.

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When she left, it was... painful. Four, no... five years now. It reminded me too much of what it was like to hurt. I told her everything and she took it. But the poison she left behind is fading a little, with time. Sometimes the moments without her almost seem like I'll be okay. I try to occupy myself with other things. For a while I was even so busy that I forgot she was gone. I forgot how long it's been. But now I'm thinking again. I don't think it hurts as much. I think I'll be okay.

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I don't have much time left. I don't know why I'm still writing. Communications are already gone. Once the computer...

I'm thinking again. About the end. Will it hurt like the first time? Will I notice?

I miss her.

I miss her.