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For the Record...

For the record, I don't know why I'm writing this down. I don't see how this would accomplish anything. However, I feel if I don't, I would implode.

I have to approach this matter utilizing the same rational and calculated way I would any other negotiation. But, the question remains: Is this really a negotiation or something deeper? Is the client willing to trade? Will the other party accept the terms? Will both parties agree? I don't know.

I hope the proposal will be accepted. What I mean is; I have negotiated with thieves, kidnappers, ghosts, the dead, and not too long ago, a Producer. But, in this case, all bets are off. My skills will be rendered useless, detrimental to the task at hand.

I must confess, I feel a pending coup d'etat battling inside me. Typically, when a negotiation turns sour, the olive branch becomes useless in settling the dispute. It is then, I resort to that persuasive power of the Megadeus. Unfortunately, the power and awe of the Big O are no match for the situation at hand.

It's been over five years since I have agreed to protect her. Now, I am faced with the most difficult decision of my life. I will attempt to list out the pros and cons in the hopes that seeing them would assist me to determine my next course of action. Unfortunately, this matter may no be measurable using standard metrics.

I find her morning performances innerving and her sarcastic and apathetic remarks disturbingly ill-mannered. Normally, I would cringe at the sight of a person with such lowly attributes. So, why am I so distressed? It seems that the question has a clean cut solution.

Her quirky personality adds fuel to the fire. For instance, she's always ridiculed my fashion sense. Repeatedly I hear her say, "Your sense of fashion really reeks." She tends to mock me in this field, as if her fashion sense was any better. What is wrong with the color black? Is it so wrong with enjoying simple attributes such as color preference or lack of color, as she relentlessly points out?

I enjoy the simple things in life. Things like a drive around town or gazing out of my balcony or even working on a case without sleep. These are important and gratifying to me. But, all she can say is, "You are wasting fuel"; "You are going to catch a cold if you stay out too long"; "Sleep deprivation is not good." Why does she interfere so much? My life was complete before she pried into it.

No, that's not entirely accurate. I must confess, the moment I removed her blind fold and gazed upon her obsidian eyes, I felt a special bond. I knew, at that very moment, that I truly loved her. Despite her annoying morning performances and her snappy remarks, her relentless criticism and meddling, I found myself enjoying every moment of her company. I'd never openly admitted to it, but I love her tenderly.

The thought of losing her would tear my soul apart. When that canary dressed, flamboyant know-it-all jerk took her from me, all I can do was weep inside. Seeing her stripped from her memories and her information tray, thinking that she would never return to me again, poisoned me. From that moment, I thought that I would never live again. It was after she became conscious again that my thoughts of sui... I shouldn't have mentioned that.

Let's see... I am unable to resist her smile. It even brightens my most darkened days. When I was drowning inside Big O, it was her smile, not air that revived me. When I asked her for mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, it with was her smirk and humor that rejuvenated me.

Her sarcasm reminds me that I am not the only person with a sharp wit. Her technical assistance has been invaluable. Her mere presence has been nectar to my soul. However, this does not make my diligent search for a solution any easier.

Maybe if I was an android, or she was a human... No, that's not fair for either one of us. I know we have to play the cards life has dealt us. It's pathetic for one to have to resort to hypothetical scenarios to deviate from having to address the pending problem.

It's not like I don't know what I have to do. The words I must say are very simple, yet so difficult to express. I'm able to discuss terms and options to angry and underhanded people, to remain focused and calm at gun point. I've always been able to control my emotions and excel under the most stringent situations.

Hmm...It's pointless to write more. I conclude this ridiculous letter to nobody in particular with one last sentence. I hope that she says yes.
 
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