You see, I met her and I liked her. I was drawn to her and took great pleasure in her company. Subjects became rare through our communication. Soon I loved her. I didn’t know it immediately, yet when I made the discovery it didn’t shock. When things befell me, she was my first impulse; and daily my love for her turned grander and deeper. Every woman assumed her shape and fell it short. Each emotion swam naturally back to her. My consciousness she filled, leaving scant space for matter foreign to her existence. Then I hated her. I hated her and desperately sought to flee, yet she was so ingrained in me that I couldn’t possibly escape. (I don’t have to tell you that here I still loved her.) Her presence smothered me in all states waking and dreaming. I lost my self, my grip, the railing to my life. One day, exasperated and broken, I set out to do something radical. Cold, dark waters. No thought, no memory. Close to the end, a curious sensation came over me. Warm and pleasant. In the state of things, nothing had changed. Except I no longer hated her. Nor did I love her, nor did I like her. She was simply a human being among human beings. And I left it at that.