'Maybe it was for the best that she left me.
Maybe. But maybe doesn't suffice nor satisfy my longing to once again behold her face, to grasp her tightly to my bosom and profess my love her, the love that has extended past what I had ever conceived a human could bear. Oh, how hard it is to bear, without her by my side. What a fool am I! What a scoundrel! I, the unredeemable sinner, had let go of my one last hope of reaching the eternal flame. That dove of pure innocence and devotion would have made my happiness. My dear Jane, my fairy, my kindred, my love-she was mine and I was hers. I had molded her dainty form to my soul, and now, so indented of her being, I cannot live in the same skin. It burns. It scorches each fiber of my being with regret and stains my forever seeing eyes with lost promises and time. Superior to me, my dear Janet is, and gracious and merciful she was on my bent, twisted heart. If only that fairy had descended upon me whilst I was a lad, then, I swear I would have not hesitated a moment in the ticking of old Father Time. There would have been no tricks, no deceit, no lies—only truth, the purest form of the Light, would have granted me such a firm hold on that beloved creature. Oh, my love! Oh, where have you gone? Why, why did you leave me thus? Dear Jane, come back to me. Fly back to Thornfield on those uncharted wings, soar amongst the clouds where you are free, and reach out your hand, as you had once done before, and carry me, raise me above the dry, sharp desert. Jane…Jane…'
Mr. Rochester, now weary of his thoughts and no weeping left inside, slumped backwards into the armchair, whispering his lover's name as he fell into a dreamless sleep. The fire in the hearth burned bright, casting light accost his limp form and brought into sight the ravaged beast that had forged through his soul and onto his body. Black tuffs of hair lie jagged, jolting in awkward positions on his wide forehead. His skin was damp, covered in tears and droplets of perspiration that were gifts from that ravaged beast. He looked absolutely torn. How could he not? His dear companion had left his side, forever.