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The worst part of sharing a physical presence and consciousness with Lou is that you're both fused to the rotting corpse that used to be your body. But you find a way to make it work. Maybe you're not so into late-night cons, and maybe she doesn't share your love of demented 1980s horror/special effects masterpieces, and maybe the constant agony of living in a twisted abomination of flesh and that exists simultaneously in the physical world and a hell dimension that is itself the source of human suffering is sorta inconvenient, but what relationship doesn't have its problems?

The point is, the companionship is nice. Even the unfathomable limits of pain and sorrow that course through your existence are somehow bearable just because you have someone to share it with. And even though you're dead, you do get to live on in her heart, both literally and figuratively. And sharing your every secret thought, every memory, and every dream with another person is wonderfully fulfilling, even if you are forced to do so because your brain occupies the same physical space.

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And because you can see all of eternity at once, a sensation that the human consciousness could never hope to endure, and yet, impossibly, yours is forced to, you know that you're going to grow old together. And you know the precise date that you will both die. It is a long fucking time from now.

JF Sargent has some commitment issues and is an editor and columnist for Cracked. Check him out on Twitter and Facebook.

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For more reasons our ancestors did it better, check out 5 Lifehacks For Living With A Terrible Attention Span and The Mundane Background Story Of Every James Bond Adventure.