I write now from far beyond where I once was. I can not put the nature of this realm into words even if it were my will to do so, but for now, the world lends itself to my task at hand. I feel my last moments on the Earth with crystal clarity. There had been so much hate, and yet this is no punishment. It is merely a state of remembrance. It is a last opportunity to understand the value of what I was, and to share my thoughts out of respect for my past wishes, whether or not they are to be heard. For above all, I remember that I truly had something to live for.
I had attained the wish that all people seem to strive for, to love and to be loved in return. Roxane was mine, and I her's. She chose me, and like the fool that I was, I doubted that she would. It was not my appearance that she adored, for she is far too perfect to see merely the superficial. No, she saw inside of me, and felt my love for her. Cyrano was merely a means to an end. With or without him, I would have found a way, but why then am I here? Why is fate cruel? In time, perhaps it will not matter. I will transcend, but until then I must find answers, and seek my vengeance.
I had attained the wish that all people seem to strive for, to love and to be loved in return. Roxane was mine, and I her's. She chose me, and like the fool that I was, I doubted that she would. It was not my appearance that she adored, for she is far too perfect to see merely the superficial. No, she saw inside of me, and felt my love for her. Cyrano was merely a means to an end. With or without him, I would have found a way, but why then am I here? Why is fate cruel? In time, perhaps it will not matter. I will transcend, but until then I must find answers, and seek my vengeance.
Three is the number of those who do holy work
Two is the number of those who do lover's work
One is the number of those who do perfect evil, or perfect good
- Clive Barker
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