Was it unfair for me to stow this extra weight upon your shoulders? The combined mass of all that is me? Not to a shallow emotional extent, but to an unfathomably deep psychological one. A burden in which you are seen as my last, dying ray of sunlight, my last chance at what is true, brilliant, and insatiable of life. And was the realization of unrequitedness not an unbearable one? Not an eventual, begrudging one which groped at your being with guilt and confused intensity? For I would like to believe it was, as it would be comforting, but this logical little voice in me states it wasn’t. Rather, an epiphany of lesser pity, a slight hope for me to take my leave, as you have greater things to accomplish in life, and I am yet to even contemplate such vastness.