Devil You Know

PROLOGUE

BEING ALONE, while not alone, is such a curious thing. How can one who is surrounded by many, still feel the hollow ache of a person who has nobody to confide in, nobody to trust?

Nobody to love.

Human beings in general are companion-based animals. We long, and yearn for that soul mate since the day we are born—it's only that we don't fully understand the emotion until puberty has taken hold, and love is no longer what we feel for a cherished toy, but rather a self-inflicted torture we endure in the name of connecting with somebody who makes us feel magical. A week of madness, an hour of pain, all for a few simple minutes of ecstasy.

So many of us would give that—sell our soul to the devil—and never look back. The euphoria we get from a simple touch, a look, a whispered word can undo the greatest of heartache. Usually heartache we endure in the pursuit of such a fabled moment.

It's only when the heartache follows the treasured moment that we begin to question this whole 'love' thing. Only then will endless hours be lost standing in the shower, questioning everything we thought we knew. The devil on our shoulder starts the guessing game, and we delve too far into every decision we make. Should I? Would I? Could I?

A form of insanity takes hold, and we lose ourselves to the madness before we recognize the signs. By the time we realize what a muddled mess our head is in, it's too late; we've crossed the road, and taken a wrong turn long ago.

The cycle begins.

A whispered word, a gentle touch, a stolen glance, and we're brought from the brink of self-destruction, back to that cloudless sky with nothing but sunshine on the horizon. We live in that euphoric state, gladly burying the pain of not so long ago, to bask in the warmth of love once again.

All until that trust is shaken.

Until the feeling is no longer reciprocated.

Until all we see in that once faithful companion, is a stranger.

Or in my case . . . the enemy.