"Who is the attractive female in the picture?" Chaos asks. I don't really have to look at the picture to know which he's pointing to, but I look anyway.

It made me feel good to look at for a while, but then I found that even on film I can see the same thing behind her eyes as I do when I'm with her.

I can see the pain. I can feel it through a photograph, despite the glowing smile and sunbeams pouring down on her. I can feel it corroding away.

"That is Alpha," I say, telling him her actual name as well. I don't know how to refer to her sometimes. Now and then she is the girl who's name she has, and other times she's that Alpha.

But when I said, "That is Alpha," what I was really thinking was, "That is the one who took my immortality and joy and made me love her for doing it."

That's not a fair thought, though. I gave everything away willingly.

Everything. I have nothing left to give, nothing left that she wants to take.

Well, there's ONE thing, but I'm asexual. So yeah.

I'm going to miss her when I finally die.

I wonder if she'll remember me when she's 6000 years old. Though, already, I know the earth has forgotten.