To dear Regulus.
It's great that you are nineteen forever, Regulus. And we are all aging slowly and uncontrollably under the polish of time.
The last enemy to be defeated is death, not loneliness. The essence of life is loneliness from pain to death. I know I will always have to enjoy this pain, because I know I will never be numb. It's not that we don't crave warmth, it's just that we are born to be lonely.
This was a bet I made with death. The golden galleons of fate spun around again and again, and finally swayed to a stop, making a crisp sound quietly on the table, silently reminding everyone that everything was over.
I smiled, obviously, I won.