And Love Goes On

I cannot die. I've tried all possible methods but none, so far, worked. I cannot age. My internal clock has seized its ticking long ago. Yet, when I remain the same, those around me change, grow, become happy, and, eventually, die. I am the only one who doesn't. The only one who remains alone. So alone.
I don't know how it had happened. I can no longer remember when. I only know is why. Why such a thing happened. Why such a thing occurred. Because, in the end, I only have my own foolishness to blame.

It was because of love.

That awfully, wonderfully, wretched feeling, called love.

Love was the thing that cursed me. Cursed me to become like this. So now I will forever shun it. Turn the other way from it. Obliterate it from my mind. So, never again will it lure me, entice me, with sweet words full of empty promises.

And even though I state these words with set determination; the world, I know, is cruelly laughing at me because it knows that I have and will never have the power to stop what will happen next.