He was afraid.
Despite his cold exterior and surprisingly still hands, he was afraid. I could tell.
And I was reckless. In some way or another, I end up endangering him. And yet again, we'd both be trapped in this ceaseless cycle of him between me and them. I was beginning to feel that maybe perhaps everything was pointless. I was struggling to push a boulder up a mountain that had no peak; I was demanding things from life that couldn't speak. What's all this talk of settling down when I can't even find the right guy? Better yet, walk a straight line.
He was here again.
And it was my fault.
I began to taste the bitter taste of blood and found that I had bitten my lip as I fell. Am I selfish or naive to think that he was always... somehow...my back up plan? The thought was amusing and I wondered whether the faint smile across my face would be mistaken for pride or conceit. When the fact of the matter was that I hated him. He was always there when I least expected and he was never there when I wanted him.
