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Go ahead, try it, I dare you. Try to make me feel something. A punch, a kick, a stab...Nothing will work, not this time; because as I sit here in this empty room of this dungeon of a house. Nothing can hurt me, nothing except my memories of her. I know is a broken record, I know you've heard this all before; the heartache, the heartbreak. Still, even with the knowledge that I've lived through it before, I can't stop the sorrow; this time it was...it was different...she was different.

Half the reason I loved her so much is because she is different, well, that is a lie, I can't say loved because I still love her. I love how she's fearless when protecting those close to her, yet still has that timid, "I need a hero" side too. Another thing was how strong she could be, unwilling to step down from her stand, some called it being stubborn, I called it admirable. Long story short, she was alot of things, far too many to simple list, and the unbelievable part is that all of that inner beauty was perfectly symmtrical with her outwardly appearance, she was drop dead gorgeous.

As beautiful as the silver moon hanging full in the sky, damn near perfect. Everything, from the chestnut brown hair swinging in the breeze, past the curves that swayed in the soft motion of her walk, all the way down her slender legs. Not just that, but her voice, she sounded like an angel should; every word was it's own song, each word was a song that no-one could change, a song that made sure you heard everything it wanted you to know...Though one thing I failed to mention, which I hate myself for forgetting. Her eyes. Steel blue and burning with an un-seen flame. Those were the eyes that could be gentle enough to lift you from the ground or in the worst of times they were a deadly weapon, piercing through your heart far more effectively than any dagger every could.

Well...here comes the realization, here come the tears; a droplet for each memory, the unstoppable proof of the pain I was put through.

So as I sit here in this empty room of this dungeon of a house it is quite easy to see. She's beaten me, she's succeeded; she didnt punch or kick me. She didnt stab me either. But she made me hurt...she made me cry...