So, this is your fate? Falling. Faster then you've ever fallen before.
Love at last. 
Like a loop of the last 8 frames of film, before a slow-motion Lee Harvey Oswald gets shot in the guts and killed.

You've never felt so alive.
Or so dead.
Or so anything.
The chocolate is on the floor.
You have accepted your fate.
You search for any meaning in it.
Love at last.
You have found me.