Writefag Bait

>Your waifu steadily approaches you.
>The appearance on her face is bleak and somber.
"Anon, you have to learn to let me go. I'll never be real."
>You wake up.
>You immediately jolt from your once reclining state.
>Vacantly starring at your rumpled bed sheets, you sit completely motionless for what seems like hours.
>In reality, only a few minutes have passed.
>A tear forms in your eye and trickles down your cheek.

>It's now several hours latter.
>You should have left for work hours ago.
>Instead you sit alone at your dining room table.
>In front of you lies a half empty bottle of scotch and your revolver.
>"Why even live?"
>You repeat this to yourself for several minutes as you polish off the remnants of the bottle.
>Your well now intoxicated self ungracefully removes the revolver from the table and places it to your head.
>In its chamber, a single bullet.
>Your finger, lying on the trigger.
>Moments before you end it all, you recall the haunting words that have brought you to this conclusion.
"Anon, you have to learn to let me go. I'll never be real."
>BANG.
>You wake up.