Oh, Woe is Me ((a pity story...))

How do you let go of something you've loved for so long, so long that it's become a piece of you, inseparable from your own soul. It seems an impossible, inconceivable fate to never have the strength to release this malignant love. I try to kill it, but even silver bullets don't wound it. It's grown too strong for it's own good. It's been too long that it's held on like a parasite, gripping my heart with it ugly, mangled hand. I yearn for the grip to weaken, for the hand to slip, for my heart to finally beat freely and fully again. Oh how tainted I feel. How wounded and incomplete my heart feels. It aches for the return of this love, for the unrequited-ness to disappear. Shouldn't time heal all? Please time, go a little faster. It's already been too many years.