She'd been alone for so long. Watching, waiting, wishing. When he finally showed up, she didn't even know he was the one she'd been waiting for. He was just another boy, differing in no way from the many others that had sought her out. She treated him the same as she did them, but he didn't let her off that easily. Over time she started seeing more and more of him, and every time they met, he got a little closer. She resisted at first, distracting herself with as many others as she could find, but it was no use. Slowly but surely he worked his way into her head until she saw his face in every other face, and soon he was pretty much all she could think about.
Every touch sent a tingly feeling down her spine, being with him gave her the purest happiness she had ever experienced. One day, the tingles moved from her spine to her stomach, and she knew she was lost. She wanted him, needed him even, more than any of the others. Was it love? She thought so. It had to be. When he told her so, her heart felt like it was about to burst with joy, and from that moment on she was his. No matter how many others, her heart always belonged to him. Loving him was the best, most dangerous thing she'd ever done. Every night she lay awake, alone or not, and waited. She knew it could never last. Not with her, not with him. They weren't the same, one of them was bound to end up hurting the other. And sure enough, one day, they did. And again, and again, until her tattered heart was sure she couldn't bear any more of this. And yet she always came back to him, because the cause was the only cure.