I'm not a bad person. I'm just tired of pretending to be good.

My dog died a few days ago. He lived 10 years — I hadn't seen him in 2.  
I hope he wasn't waiting for me.  
Here comes the first tear from a dead soul.  

I left to live with her after meeting online.  
A dark period. Depression. Thoughts of the end.  
And just then, she arrived.  

Now I don't see her as my wife, but I can't bring myself to end it.  

I'm tattooed from my neck to my fingertips — old ladies hide their purses.  
I've given my last money to a friend.  

Autopilot.  

This is a story about why the hero would kill you to save the world,  
and the villain would kill the world to save you.  
And why I choose the villain.  
Because at least he's real.