In anticipation of the time, if it ever comes, when I will see you frown at my defects; when mature reflection tells you that you’ve come to the end of your love for me; in anticipation of that time when you will pass by me like a stranger, barely even acknowledging me with a glance of your brilliant eye; when your love for me isn’t love anymore and you’re guided only by somber judgment—in anticipation of that time, I’m establishing myself here, knowing how little I really deserve, and I’m giving testimony against myself to defend the justice of your future actions. You have every right to leave poor me—all the laws of reason back you up—since I can’t offer any justification for your loving me.