about a girl.

         I met her just after I'd moved in with the Hulk. It was a pretty good place to live, really big room, though having to carry that giant key wasn't awesome. And sometimes I had to hide in my room if he had one of his moods, but otherwise: a good place to live.
         She had also just gotten out of college, but somewhere else, I forget where. She said she wanted to be an actress. I wanted to continue my work in the sciences. It took me almost a year to ask her out, and by then all my hair had fallen out. I was in the lab too much, the chemicals were getting to me.
         Our first date was magical, we saw that stage production of Legs McNeil and Gillian McCain's Please Kill Me. Shia LeBeouf was surprisingly good as young Richard Hell. At intermission, which was awkwardly placed just after the Dead Boys started playing in New York, she kissed me. Later, she told me it was because I laughed at the right moments. I was enchanted.
         We'd been going out a couple months by the time the first people started calling me "mad". She told me to ignore them. The Hulk had turned gray and had started bringing all kinds of degenerates around, so I spent most of my time at her place. Her room mates were all pot heads, so specific details of that time are a little cloudy. I was mostly opposed to drugs, knowing my mind was better used for more important things, but I was in love, and I wanted to impress her.
         Those were maybe my happiest days. Long hours in the lab, and nights with her. We talked about everything. Lived life as a unit. Spent all our free time together. Her acting career wasn't working out, but she seemed to like being a waitress.
         A week after our one-year anniversary, that bastard, Brian Dewsnap, led a group inquiry into my research and got my funding removed. That son of a bitch was just jealous! What was I doing that was so wrong? No one was gonna miss those kids!
     I was really depressed for a little while. She tried whatever she could to console me, but I spent a lot of time alone. She came over when the Hulk was out of town to make me dinner. I remember her, looking so beautiful, standing on the ladder we had to use the counter, saying "Why don't you just test the stuff on your self?"
         I know now that it wasn't her fault. I've forgiven her. She couldn't have known what would happen. I was the scientist, not her. It was wrong of me to do that to her, but when those things started happening to me, what was I gonna do? Blame myself? I mean, I lived with the Hulk, I'd already seen where that road leads. But, ever since her, the only women who ever fall in love with me are either mind-controlled, which I guess I don't mind, or homicidal, which gets tiring real fast.
         I guess I just miss her. I'm sure I still have a hairbrush or something of hers somewhere. Is it wrong to clone the girl you murdered in a blind rage after turning yourself into more monster than man?