AUGUST. I think of the first time our eyes met as we sat only three feet away from each other and gave it no second thought. We were so close, yet you were so distant. I wondered of the thoughts running through your mind that kept your attention longer than any single person in that room did.

JANUARY. I found you again. I had hoped that the wounds you had once unintentionally shown me would have healed and become mere scars, pains of the past. I had hoped. You told me of your heartbreaks, your disappointments, your still-open wounds. You were the most fragile thing I had ever known.

MARCH. I fell in love with a beautiful, complex mind. You had become my favorite part of life. I watched as your wounds scabbed over. You continuously thanked me for healing you, but I should have been the one thanking you...I had never felt so alive.