Carmine's Demise

Is there a substance more potent than love? Was my actions justified, was her fate warranted? These are the thoughts that populate my psyche as I plummet to my death. The rush that accompanies these moments is so raw, so unchecked; one is never truly alive until you steal a life. The events that led me here calls into question the limits of the human conscious, how far will the fabric stretch until it snaps? Was my actions justified, was her fate really warranted? Were you in my shoes, how far would you go?