I have never once liked him. I have lusted for him, and I have desired to hurt him.
I have never once loved him, but oh, how he has haunted me in my daydreams.
He either deserts me or envelops me at night.
I would move close to him in the early morning, give him a solitary kiss on the forehead, on his arm, on his chest; wherever I felt he would let me touch without pushing my lips away.
He would grip me from behind, roll us over and kiss me only to get inside of me.