She dreamed of him last night. She didn’t know why, she hadn’t even been thinking about him that much the yesterday. Melly often had one of ‘those days’ when she couldn’t stop thinking about him and her heart couldn’t stop aching, but yesterday wasn’t one of ‘those days’. She had been fine. She had been breathing without discomfort. She had been surviving despite his absence. So how is it that he came to her like a thief in the night? He stole through the guarded walls of her mind and ravaged her. But that wasn’t even her main issue. In her dream, he loved her. That simple fact is what made this dream different from the reality. That’s what made this dream confusing and almost an obsession to think about. Her subconscious had come up with these images of his lips entangled in hers and her hands on his warm, bare chest. She could practically feel his skin under her fingertips. It was intoxicating, and yet Melly knew it did no justice to what it would really feel like to be under him. Nothing her wild imagination could conjure up could be anything like the real thing. The thing is, when she did think about him, she didn’t usually dwell on the physical aspect of her undying attraction to him. She preferred to torture herself with the tender, emotional aspect. All she wanted, more than anything in this world, was to know him. Just having a satisfying relationship with him in real life would make her dream life much easier, but she didn’t even have that. And she didn’t know what to do to turn things around and bring his attention to her. He was the only man she had ever met who made her feel inferior, like she truly was not good enough for him and that was just how it was. Maybe that was the reason she couldn’t seem to be able to get over him. Her inferiority complex made her want him all the more, and until she conquered his soul she wouldn’t be satisfied with any other man. Maybe that was why her feelings for him never wavered, they had been a part of her since the day she had met him, and no amount of time or love for another man could quench this crush. She was involuntarily in love with a man she barely knew, had been for 6 years, and was certain beyond probable doubt that it would remain this way forever, or until she did something about it. Any man who loved her would just have to deal with it, unless, of course, it was him. She couldn’t even dare say his name out loud for fear of the consequences on her physical being. Her psychology was already scarred for life, there was no undoing the damage he had caused her inner self when he’d walked into her life. Funny enough, the things she did know about him, she didn’t even like! He had an ago the size of Mars, and she didn’t even like his laugh. What kind of sick joke was this? It couldn’t be her own fault that she had fallen in love with him. Why would she do that to herself? Even as a depressed teenager, she wasn’t so sadistic so as to fall deeply in love with a man she could never have just for kicks. It wasn’t her damn fault so why couldn’t these feelings just go away? Whenever she saw him, she knew it guaranteed a week of mental torture and lack of appetite. When she was around him, she was the farthest thing from herself as possible. Her veins hummed with energy which made her fidgety and talkative, the two things she most hated to be. And the naked emotion in his eyes that she couldn’t decipher drove her over the edge. It pissed the hell out of her and only made her snappy and in turn, silly and annoying. Which only made him give her that look more, which would then make her so angry, she stopped speaking. And then he would do it. He would open his mouth and tell her exactly what was on her mind and what he thought she should do with it. She didn’t know what was worse, having your mind read or being electrocuted. He would just lean forward, elbows on his knees, look at her and speak her mind. She hated it. She loved it. She hated it because no guy ever went for the predictable girl. But then again it made her hope that maybe they were made for each other. Only thing was it didn’t go both ways, she couldn’t read his mind. But if they weren’t mean to be, why couldn’t she forget about him?