The fact is...I'm in love with you, and I have been for some time.

I decided to find you, throw myself at your feet, and beg you to have mercy on me. Honestly, I'll accept whatever you choose, Kelsey. Just don't ask me to live apart from you again. Because...I can't.

Love is not a consequence. Love is not a choice. Love is a thirst. A need as vital to the soul as water is to the body. Love is a precious draught that not only soothes a parched throat, but it vitalizes a man. It fortifies him enough that he is willing to slay dragons for the woman who offers it. Take that draught of love from me and I will shrivel to dust. To take it from a man dying of thirst and give it to another whilst he watches is a cruelty I never thought you capable of.

Were you always such a stubborn, blind, obtuse girl?" "Are you calling me stupid?" "Yes, but in a more poetic way!" "Well, here's a poem for you. Get lost!

Tarzan-like men are my weakness, apparently.

I could feel the warmth of his presence as if a soft blanket had been wrapped around my soul, around my heart. It held me and protected me. It sheltered me and I knew I wasn't alone anymore.

And yes, I'll admit, I am jealous. I'm jealous of every minute you spend with him, of every concerned expression you send his way, of every tear shed, of every glance, every touch, and every thought. I want to rip him to pieces and purge him from your mind and from your heart. But I can't.