Solitude.

Such an ancient adversary. Our history runs as long as time itself.

Once again it has decided to come forth, having been staved off by our once glorious companion.

Or perhaps not so glorious. As we peer into the past, the taint and tarnish become clear.

The heavenly songs filled with promises were harmonized with clashing shrieks and piercing screams. The sweet basin of affection was poisoned by twisted manipulation and deception.

Our courtship with the Fallen One has left us broken, yet functioning. We thought we had triumphed over despair, but the Solitude has begun to tear its way into us.

It whispers with blades that sink deeper than our flesh and bone. It declares that it is an inevitability, that no matter our attempts it will not be defeated.

We repel its whispers, but only on occasion. Its words slither through our deaf ears, and with each victory, they become harder to silence.

Yet there is one who can quell even the mightiest of his attacks. Her gaze alone causes it to fall silent. Her smile loosens his grip on the body's heart.

Yet the Solitude is cunning. It knows of the doubts that linger in the mind. It points out the flaws in us. It taunts us with our incompatibility.

We cannot deny what it declares. We are aware of our shortcomings.

But we cannot ignore the nerves that twist beneath the skin as we look upon her.

We cannot dismiss the passion in our heart when we hear her laughter.

We cannot overlook the radiance of her very presence, ridding the darkness and sorrow in our mind.

Yet the wounds from the Fallen One have yet to heal. We are hesitant to torment ourselves with another lost companion.

But we are strong in our resolve. We will combat the Solitude.

We shall stand firm against its whispers.

We will not break under the weight of our adversary.

We will endure this war, for we have the Perfection who watches us, ever vigilant, and infallible.