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Description
The funniest thing about love is how foolish it truly is. Those of us who have ever truly loved someone know this to be true. It's lighter than a feather, intangible and uncontrollable, and yet so enticing to the mind, the soul and the body. It's obvious that nobody's perfect, because perfection is impossible if people everywhere are throwing themselves to their blades following a four-letter succubus.
The biggest mistake of my life was moving my own blade.
Aimed for my heart, love was prepared to strike and I was unprepared to bear it. At the last possible moment, cowed by fear of the misunderstood, I moved out of the way and was wounded worse than any possible physical pain. Left shredded and dying, I sought refuge in those around me, struggling to recover.
But wriggling only opens a wound wider.
The worst part of it was watching her go away. No goodbye, no farewell, understandable even though it hurt so deeply. Tears streaming from her eyes, friends evaporating before my own, the ground tearing away from me leaving me standing atop a lofty peak surrounded by molten fury, I realized my mistake.
Never before have I missed someone so much.
She can't possibly feel the same way I do. After what I've done, it's a miracle she remains tolerant of me. I deserve nothing but retribution, yet she still cares and remains in close proximity to my shallow life. Keeping me afloat merely by existing, she has no idea how much it means to me to be able to call her a friend.
But I want her to be so much more.
I love her.

Description
The funniest thing about love is how foolish it truly is. Those of us who have ever truly loved someone know this to be true. It's lighter than a feather, intangible and uncontrollable, and yet so enticing to the mind, the soul and the body. It's obvious that nobody's perfect, because perfection is impossible if people everywhere are throwing themselves to their blades following a four-letter succubus.
The biggest mistake of my life was moving my own blade.
Aimed for my heart, love was prepared to strike and I was unprepared to bear it. At the last possible moment, cowed by fear of the misunderstood, I moved out of the way and was wounded worse than any possible physical pain. Left shredded and dying, I sought refuge in those around me, struggling to recover.
But wriggling only opens a wound wider.
The worst part of it was watching her go away. No goodbye, no farewell, understandable even though it hurt so deeply. Tears streaming from her eyes, friends evaporating before my own, the ground tearing away from me leaving me standing atop a lofty peak surrounded by molten fury, I realized my mistake.
Never before have I missed someone so much.
She can't possibly feel the same way I do. After what I've done, it's a miracle she remains tolerant of me. I deserve nothing but retribution, yet she still cares and remains in close proximity to my shallow life. Keeping me afloat merely by existing, she has no idea how much it means to me to be able to call her a friend.
But I want her to be so much more.
I love her.