Logan vampire

Here I am, Logan, 40s; walking uncaringly along a shadowed damp cold dark alley only thinking about you, my mate for life: "How could you do this to me? A year together and now you want to go slow and be apart. I die a little bit more every time I am not with you. Everything for you, including this... Do you call it torture? Agony? Pain? Whatever it is, I feel like my innards were ripped out of me, put in a blender on frappe, and placed back inside. No wonder I stopped doing this after I graduated. How does anyone in their right mind play this love game? Centuries I have on me and yet, I'm being taught a lesson. I tell you what, once you hit adulthood, the realization hits you. I'm talking a sack of potatoes into your gut realization. Games are for children. True love is for adults. I'm not talking your 18-20 young adult party at bars here. I'm talking about I've dealt and learned enough to know adult here. Years of tattered roads filled with twists and turns as ancient grandmas say "I see" and more. Comfort and knowledge sooths your soul. But- For you, I'd die... again."