That was it, wasn't it?
I didn't simply want to die. And no, I simply didn't want to see everything I was and am made a broken mockery.
I wanted to be completely destroyed. I wanted a great hand to come down and wipe away all traces that I ever existed. I didn't even want there to be a memory.
Maybe that's why I couldn't do it.
The truely frightening part? I'm sure part of the reason I'm still here is to find a way to tarnish and destroy that memory as a prelude to my demise.