I seem to have this tendency.

Of meeting broken people.

And I don't know what it is, but it draws me in. Angst, I think, is beautiful. There's something refined and elegant about brooding silently in a corner. Yet it's a formidable beauty, like a bomb still ticking. Getting close to a person like this is inherently dangerous, and it always seems to be my undoing. It's like this switch that automatically flips on, and all at once I can't resist trying to find out every last piece of information about the person as I can. I know it's prying and should be none of my business, but I can't help it. When I see damage, I want to fix it. Damaged souls are no different.

The first one was him. He was, essentially, a walking ice statue. And even at my young age I knew that there was something terribly wrong with that boy. There was no way that a person could not smile or laugh, and I had this urge to be the first one to make him do so. For years I was unsuccessful, and I thought that perhaps I only made him hate me even more. Then, he surprised me. At that point, it was basically the same thing. But every once in a while, he would have these moments. These unbelievable, tender, passionate moments. And I thought, yes, I won. I broke through his walls of distance. I am proof that it can be done.

But in the end, he left me. And nothing ever changed.

The other one was different. There was no initial sense of wreckage, and I thought this was a good thing. But as I got to know him more, I realized that he too was sheltering secrets. I think he was the first person to trigger my little brother syndrome, because I never developed romantic feelings towards him. He was like this lost kid that needed my help, and I just wanted to take him under my wing and protect him from everything. And in that first year, we became so close. I was hoping that I would become the one he went to for everything—girl advice, school help, even things as trivial as picking out clothes in the morning.

But in the end, he turned on me. And nothing ever changed.

Now, there's you. You really led me on, you know. I was so happy, because I finally thought that I had found a normal one. But, as always, my curiosity gets the better of me and I start looking for more. And, of course, I find things. I realized that there's more to you than your straight-forward, cynical, strangely enthusiastic exterior. I know you're hiding more than problems, more than secrets, and it makes me want to figure out every single one of them. But that always gets me in trouble, and it's driving me crazy because I don't want to end up in the same situation all over again. It's absolutely maddening. And I want to blame you for all of it.

But, as usual, I can't.