When we fall in love we want to believe that the object recieving our undying affection is perfect. That they would, under no circumstances, do anything wrong.

This belief is a myth, plain and simple. No matter how deeply you love your partner, there are always going to be faults in them. Regardless. There isn't a cyborg or full-flesh human alive or dead that has ever been this way, nor will there ever be.

This is not to say that I wasn't drawn into this belief as well: because I was. I guess that you could say I wasn optimist from the beginning. Or rather, that is to say, the beginning as far as I can remember.

I am a cyborg. A human machine. In the scrapyard, where I was 'born', cyborgs were nothing unusual. In fact, they were in the majority. It was a thriving metropolis of the iron-clad, and I fit in well. I even enjoyed life, to an extent. Every story needs a good villain, and the story of my life was no exception to that. The ruthless circuit that tore my old, content way of life to shreds also helped me to find out who I really was.