Why?
Tell me why?
I feel his lips crushing against mine.
But they feel different.
They feel wrong.
I feel the touch of his skin.
Everything about it is wrong.
It's a different temperature, a different feeling that travels through her body when my skin meets his.
As I look up into his eyes, they are not the eyes I can see my heart beating inside.
When I reluctantly run my hand through his hair, my heart shudders.
It is not the hair I love.
When I look at the prefect, flawless skin above his left eye, I feel disgusted.
This man, I think I love him.
But,
Why?
Why am I thinking of him when I'm with the one who is with me?
Why do I crave his lips?
Why do I desire to feel his touch?
Because I want to feel that electric current run through my body.
Why?
Why do I love the silver haired, red-eyed man, whose love is forbidden?
…
Why am I with this man, when I love him more?
Tell me why, so I can leave and be with himinstead of this second best.