He found me at a time when I was full of hate. My heart was so heavy with ache, and his disdainful words were the unfortunate comfort I chose to bury myself inside.

I won't lie, I really loved him. Whatever that means in this situation, I'm not sure. I wasn't in love with him in the same sense I'd ever felt with anyone else. I was afraid of him, but that fear was what turned me on so strongly. I knew he had a ***** or two that could use a bit of tightening. And that's what I wanted about him. I wanted his oddness. I needed to be a part of it.

It started as an experiment. I just wanted to get a look inside of his mind, even though I was terrified of what I might end up learning. I was curious as a kitten and just needed to keep chipping away until he trusted me at least a little bit. I don't know if he ever truly did, but I like to think so. I hope he did.

I told him things about myself no one else has ever heard me say. It's strange, but I felt as if I could spill my soul to him and nothing would phase him. He was so strange. So bizarre and absurd. A little scary, but oddly beautiful. I really did love him.

That was never my intention. Not in my plan at all, I just wanted to know him. I wanted to unmask him just a bit. Enough to peek at his face, but not enough to memorize any pieces I'd see. But that's not how it happened. The more I saw, the more I wanted to see. I became obsessed, as I fell deeper and deeper in love with his quirkiness. With his inability to give a **** what anyone thought of him. He was completely endearing and strange and I couldn't get enough.

The things he said were usually brilliant, no matter how cruel they might be. He never really said anything bad about me, and it made me feel special. Like I was untouchable by anyone else at that point. I allowed him to write me as I was meant to be read. I felt like I was powerful, in an odd and sickening way. But I loved him. I really really loved him.

There were a few moments, the short months he and I were speaking, where I saw little glimpses of who he really was. He has so much beauty inside of him, despite what anyone else would think of him. He might be afraid to show it to most people, or perhaps he just knows how special he really is, and only chooses to share it with certain people. I'll probably never know.

But one thing I do know is that I loved him. Part of me always will.