You've been running, running hard. Can you imagine it?

You've been running for miles - your body demands to stop. It needs to stop. But your mind, it screams at you, urges you to go on. The wind blows sharply as you push forward. Specks of dust swirls in the air, cuts you as you go. You're tired - and breathless. You try to summon oxygen back into your lungs, but the mere effort hurts too much.

That's how I felt when he walked my way.

You finally allow your tired body to slow, and finally stop. Hands braced on your knees, you tried to catch a breather. To control your laboured breathing. The spent muscles of your legs quiver, threatening to give out underneath your weight. Your knees just can't seem to lock, and you feel as if you'll be reduced to a heap on the floor in no time.

That's how I felt when he stopped in front of me.

It's all too much, your chest feels as though it's about to burst. You need air. You suck in a mouthful. But no matter how much you gulp or gasp, it doesn't reach your lungs. You feel your lungs shrinking. Squeezing out what little oxygen might be left in there. It's shrinking still, tightening to an almost unbearable degree.

And then finally, you succumbed into the darkness.

I don't know how, but somehow I manage to go through life with such apathy. Not getting to emotionally attached to anything in particular and just squander on by. Of course, though I hate to admit it, it is absolutely intentional. A mere artifice. An image that I have created for myself. No, I wasn't naturally apathetic with a cynical view on the world. Nothing terrible ever happened to me that I lost hope in humanity (though I certainly have). It was just something I picked up along the way. A way to preserve my general well being, I suppose. You can't get hurt or be disappointed by anyone or anything if you've already expected the worst. That was my theory.

Unfortunately, emotions have a volition of their own. You just can't control them or even try to keep them at bay. Like the feeling that you love someone. It takes a life of it's own, and you're forced to take the back seat. To my frustration, I tend to feel things rather deeply. You can't be that cool stone-faced kid if you're gonna be affected by every little thing. Love? They don't even bat an eyelash.

I wouldn't go as far to saying that I love him. Heaven help me if I do. But I do find him rather intriguing and I wouldn't mind - or if we're being quite honest, desperately want to get to know him better. A mere conversation would suffice. I suppose if I were an outsider looking in, I'd feel pity for this girl who's convince that she's found the love of her life and that he's perfect in every way possible, but sadly has no inkling to her existence. I would also find this situation to be slightly amusing, in the most pathetic way possible. Like one of those cheesy dramas you're so used to on telly. Except this time, the girl doesn't get the guy.