The pain hit my chest like a ton of bricks. Now that Heathcliff was gone, I felt the darkness swarm around me, wrapping around my chest, suffocating, stifling, allowing no feeling but agony at his loss.

How could you not understand? Linton is insignificant when compared to the euphoria I feel when you are near. The whole world is not needed as long as we are together, protecting each other from the danger of the big bad world.

Yet all you heard was my selfish whining that I could never marry him, yet what you didn't hear, my love, is that I would forsake everyone if only to spend one mere minute with you, gazing into your eyes, the window to your soul, which so mirrors mine.

Now your gone, fled into the jaws of darkness that surrounds us. The one person I ever truly cared about in the self-indulgent wreck that is my life. I knew my comeuppance would come finally, it had to after all the awful things I have done in an alarmingly short time. Yet you did not deserve to get hurt? It is I who has sinned; I deserve eternal hell, the pit of fire, the never-ending agony. But not you my love. You must admit you're not perfect; however, you have never hurt me, never tore my soul into pieces and stamped on it like I did tonight.

But I shall not pray for forgiveness, I don't deserve that, and I must accept that I shall endure a lifetime of misery and isolation. It is the least I deserve for destroying the one good part of my soul.