If I turn back, I could lose everything in that stare of his. I could feel that same, indescribable desire that drives me insane.
Somehow I just know that something about him is different. Different from the rest of my harassers in this forlorn world, different from my past recollections and present emotions.
It's a hard thing for me to describe, quite honestly, because I can't even begin to understand it myself. In this case, the word "different"must take on a myriad of implications and interpretations to reflect the chaos erupting within my own heart.
I feel hatred, yet I feel an undeniable attraction. I want to slap his face and stroke his cheek. But for the other people I have encountered here…nothing fazes me.
I think what I am so afraid of may be the intensity of my feelings. Regardless of what they are, they exist, and they are presented in a way that is near impossible to ignore.
