I suppose I have an affinity for picking up Mersaults, like Anthony, and growing close to them (or so I think) and finding out that really, there's nothing there at all because emotion doesn't exist for them and the element of me in their lives is inconsequential whether it was ever there or not or whether it ever will be there in the future.

Tonight, I say goodbye to the second and hopefully the last of those. And I am alone again, only even more disillusioned. I really thought it couldn't get worse. But it can always get worse. I knew that, really. I really knew that.