Emotionally scarred beings are the hardest to love. Not knowing that any slight movement towards them may cause a scar under the surface to burn. Nothing we knowingly did or said, but enough to set of a chain reaction in their mind. You become the easiest target to their aggressive verbal out lashes. Unavoidably wearing red in a ring with a bull. Slammed against the wall, cut deep with the sword of his tongue. Stabbing at things you wish to forget, your biggest fear, your deepest regret. Nothing is off limits for degrading. Yet when the fight is over and the lashes have subsided you stand up, wipe the dirt off your shirt, bandage your wounds, and walk away arm in arm with the enemy, secretly waiting for the next outburst. Secretly wishing you didn't love him. Yet so undeniably happy that you do.