"You know what was the worst part in losing her?" he said, sounding so sullen that all her anger had disappeared...
"What?" she asked, quite curious. He stared at her, his eyes hardening each time he remembered what he did...
"I was the reason she's gone."
Love makes us fools, that's what they say. Love makes us blind, and love makes us into things we never imagined to be. He said that love was the key to everything, and that he indeed does loves us, but why all these hardships? Why won't he make himself known?
Is immortality all that great? Perhaps His love had finally died down after realizing we just weren't worth it. If one can't handle centuries of loneliness, having no one truly loving you, how much more can someone handle if they seem non-existent?
At least that's what Henry thinks.