Stop bitching, and just EAT it, already!
"Just-! You-! Rrgh! G-! JESUS! You know what you are? The human equivalent of the -Wet Spot.-"
"The wha-?"
"The Wet Spot. The damp sticky place that comes after sex. You, in short, are the mundane, unpleasant stain that is the aftermath of something special and/or fun. If a person is really decent, they won't move away from you and force other people to come into contact with you. Nobody likes you; nobody wants you. People do, however, deal with you... because there is nothing else to be done about you. You are not something special, that was the events of your creation. Those were special. You... are there; that's it. And you know what? You really want to know what? I'm done. I'm finished! I've tried to be a decent, nice, and generally good person, but at some point, you just have to roll over and let someone else take the Spot for a night. I don't care that you were born when two suns collided and passed through each other, nearly destroying seventeen planets in the process, actually destroying three, all in accordance with a seven-hundred year old prophecy, the events of which were started by a despot's mad attempt to forge a new galaxy where he would never have to face his fear of dying alone and unloved..! Because you know what? THAT. Was awesome. YOU. Are not. I'm... I'm going out. I don't know when I'll be back, or even if I will be back. All I know is, I need to be away from you."
"The wha-?"
"The Wet Spot. The damp sticky place that comes after sex. You, in short, are the mundane, unpleasant stain that is the aftermath of something special and/or fun. If a person is really decent, they won't move away from you and force other people to come into contact with you. Nobody likes you; nobody wants you. People do, however, deal with you... because there is nothing else to be done about you. You are not something special, that was the events of your creation. Those were special. You... are there; that's it. And you know what? You really want to know what? I'm done. I'm finished! I've tried to be a decent, nice, and generally good person, but at some point, you just have to roll over and let someone else take the Spot for a night. I don't care that you were born when two suns collided and passed through each other, nearly destroying seventeen planets in the process, actually destroying three, all in accordance with a seven-hundred year old prophecy, the events of which were started by a despot's mad attempt to forge a new galaxy where he would never have to face his fear of dying alone and unloved..! Because you know what? THAT. Was awesome. YOU. Are not. I'm... I'm going out. I don't know when I'll be back, or even if I will be back. All I know is, I need to be away from you."