Why must I suffer under your carefully careless glance? Because I've been living the life you made me escape. And now that I'm free of the chains which for so long kept me from touching you, I don't want anything to do with you or anything you stand for, among, or beside. I've grown tired through my admittedly very little experience, tired of dealing with what you say behind my back. What you tell your people. What I won't tell mine. The fundamental differences between our lives disgust me, and although I can't help but wonder at how beautiful you are until I can't draw my stare from your pale cheek and tumbling hair, I also can't bring myself to believe that I'd be happy with you.

I think you're an incredibly beautiful creature, one whose very presence gives me strength, one whose very smile breathes comfort into me. I also think that it starts out that way. Over time though, such beauty fades, as time erodes the smooth lustre to expose a rough surface beneath.

I can't fathom the thought of you for me, because we're just different, and because what you like I loathe, and what I enjoy you are wan to indulge in. I can't fathom the thought of me for you because I've been away from people for so long that you couldn't possibly accept me, and nor could they. I care nothing for the latter, but you do. And for me to displease them would be almost tantamount to offending you yourself. It appears that we are neither good enough for the other.

But still I can sit when I allow myself the time to dream. I can sit and think about the taut warmth of your body against me, and your cheek in my hand, and your wide eyes, warm with your ignorance of your own ignorance, staring into mine. I can sit and think what it would be like to spend an afternoon with you at first rowdy and loud like new friends, then later calm and solid like old loves. I can sit and wonder what it would be like to end all the games and settle down and apply our efforts multiplied to reach a common goal. We play so much with the idea of combined strengths, but what were we to actually combine them once and for all?

Such a time may never come though because in your eyes I still see a barrier. A barrier as light and clear as a pane of glass but a barrier as imposing as death itself. And so, to save my sanity, the music plays on. And we continue the dance we've been saving. Because he was right. You don't know of him, but he was right. When all of our wishes are granted, many of our dreams will be destroyed.