Graceful, like the curve of a heron's beak. Elegant as the china doll's satin dress. Breath taking, he is comparable to a mountain at sunrise.
These are all ways to describe him, yet none are true enough to even be mentioned in the same sentence as his name. Oh his name, like sweet raindrops falling from the mouth. Oh how I love him.
But, oh, how he hates me. Those eyes that sparkle so often with joy and happiness look upon me with contempt and scorn. If those eyes looked at me with even the tiniest bit of affection, of love, then I would be content.
Not happy, for who could be happy with just one small taste of the thing they truly desire? It is not in our nature. But no, I will be content. For now, that is all I can be. Just content. I know loving him will not bring me happiness.
He will never love me as I love him. I will never hear my name spoken in a lusty whisper in the shadows. I will never see his eyes (oh such beautiful eyes) fill with tears at the thought of us being apart. I will never be a part of his life, no matter how much I try.
But why NOT!? I love him so much it is painful! I love him so much I would kill for him! Oh and I will. I must kill the ones who would take him away from me. The ones who fill his head with sweet nothings while treacherously lying behind his back. I will have him! That is what I will do.
They will turn on him, but I will not. I will be there when he finds them, broken and bleeding and dead, those deceitful worms! I will be there when he breaks down and cries onto my shoulder, confessing of his friend`s hatred for him. I will be there when he needs comfort and love. I will be there when gets through the grief and realises the truth about those people he once called friends. He won`t be able to live without me.
His only friend.
His only ally.
His only love.