"Some people are hopelessly dependent on the system", Morpheus once said. I don't know if it is for better or worse that I'm hopelessly dependent on her.

I remember always watching her out of the corner of my eye. Whatever she was doing – fixing pipes, giving orders, watching the monitors – everything about her mesmerized me and filled my heart with longing that I'd never felt before. From the moment I first saw her in that club, I couldn't get her out of my head; the vision of her plagued my thoughts, my dreams, my hopes. I loved her name and repeated it over and over, savoring the delicate sound of t's: "Trinity, Trinity, Trinity". I don't know what it was for me – a mantra, a prayer, a desperate plea to love me back? Not that I thought that it could be possible.

Miracles do happen sometimes though.

She was avoiding me after our first kiss. After all the possible work was done, she almost ran away to her cabin but I followed her and caught her by the hand, pushing her to the wall. She looked at me, blue eyes unguarded, and I kissed her with all the newfound confidence her confession awoke in me. "I love you," I said, "I love you more than anyone could ever imagine".

It was true on all counts. Her athletic body drove me crazy. Her hacking skills and hard-working nature was something I admired. Her unconditional love and loyalty made me the happiest man alive. She was perfect and she was mine.

During my first visit to Zion, when we finally got alone in her room, I was so overwhelmed I thought I might faint. I felt like I was on top on the world – hell, I could bend the Matrix to my will – but more than anything I wanted to have sex with her. She didn't resist when my kisses turned deep and almost violent, nor did she protest when I started to peel her clothes off. I took a step back, taking in the sight of her, and the words were caught in my throat – she was everything I'd ever hoped for. I lost count of how many times I fucked her that night. And she was wet for me, returning my kisses with equal intensity, always ready to love me. Ready to live with me. Ready to die for me.

More often than not I found myself thinking that I love everything about her: the color of her eyes, the sound of her voice, her self-possession in the Matrix, utmost discipline on the Neb and wild passion in Zion.

There was not a single flaw. That's when I started to suspect something.

"Is it even possible?" I mused one morning, when we were lying in bed and my fingers traced lazy patters all over her lithe form, "To be so perfect?"

Trinity stirred a little in her sleep, a sheen of perspiration beginning to break out over her pale flesh, and rolled on her back, presenting me with a view of her naked body. I let myself stare at her moist lips, the gentle rise and fall of her breasts, her stomach - concave when she sucked in a breath - a smooth, soft, shallow bowl. Vagaries of perception someone might say, but for me she was the definition of perfection and I couldn't help it.

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked into mine with her crystal blue ones. She wasn't even groggy from sleep and her clear gaze was focused on me. Like a machine.

"You know," I whispered, "if I had to write the Agent Training Program, I would put you there instead of the Woman in Red. She was the perfect dream girl for poor Mouse. And you are the girl of my dreams, Trinity".

Her lips turned upward. "You're making me blush," she said but her cheeks weren't even slightly red.

"Why do you love me, Trinity?" the question slipped from my lips and I wasn't sure where did it come from.

"Because it's my purpose to love you, Neo," she answered and I couldn't tell if she was joking or not.