The room vibrates with her presence. She is boisterous and loud and challenges you to dislike her. Her natural talent for engaging others is one that should be envied and feared by public figures. She will not be overlooked or ignored, nor would you have any desire to do either once she's reeled you in. Her personality will light up even the the darkest rooms and leave them with a lingering brightness long after she's gone. She will not be forgotten - her absence will leave an empty space that never existed before she walked into your life.

She captured my attention in the dead of night, locked away from the curious eyes and attention of others. I wasn't hooked by the way she bloomed in an audience, but seduced by her intelligence and wit when it was stripped of the jokes and threats that I considered to be packaging for others. No topic was off the table and I longed to hear her opinions and her views. I found myself craving conversation, needing a fix as though I was a junkie on the verge of withdrawal. It never felt like enough and a day without her in it still feels incomplete.

Each conversation we have is laced with an underlying uncertainty that raises flags. She claims that her heart belongs to another but her words scream with doubt and I fight to keep myself neutral. I have no desire to poke holes in the already unstable foundation of her relationship. The choice belongs to them and surely I must not be the only person who sees it. It can't just be me who hears the deafening protests of a woman who seems to be sacrificing herself for something and someone she is unsure of.

I recognize her discomfort almost immediately. It was in the tone of her voice and the pat of my arm. It wasn't the potential for something more that brought her here so much as the escape from what was. I understood the uncertainty as she played with her zipper and the silence was filled with casual chit chat that wasn't even close to resembling the hours of conversation I had grown accustomed to. The warmth and familiarity that usually laced her words were lacking. I refused to step over the corpse of her previous relationship and waited for a return to normalcy that never came. I was unaware of the line that stood waiting, foolish enough to believe that her focus was as much on me as mine was on her. I blinked and she'd turned her attention to another.

The fact that I seem to know her surprises her, and I'm left stunned by the idea that she doesn't feel as though she's understood by others. To be loved is to be known. To have one without the other is comforting but superficial at best. How can you truly love something that you don't understand? How can one be satisfied by the love of a person who doesn't understand them in the most intimate ways possible? Her beauty and brilliance isn't a result of her outgoing personality but by the secrets she hides beneath the layers that she'll allow you to peel away. I'd love her not for what she puts out to the world, but for the parts of her that she keeps inside. She's beautiful in her imperfections and insecurities.

I want to know who you are interested in more than you were interested in me. She speaks openly and freely of her love for a man and yet refuses to acknowledge a woman in my life by name. For some reason, my love life is a reflection on her, but the opposite doesn't apply. She challenges my feelings for her repeatedly and compares herself to the women that have come after and yet doesn't allow the reverse to happen. I'll forever be cast as the villain in her story for not making a move while the body of her last relationship was still warm. I had no desire to be her rebound but in my hesitation, I forfeited my chance and quickly realised how fleeting her attention was.

She continuously attempts to shove me into the arms of any and all other women I mention and yet can't bring herself to repeat the name of a girl I might have genuine affection for. It's maddening in the fact that it makes absolutely no sense. Her reactions contradict each other and it confuses me and I can't help but wonder if it's the simple fact that my being single annoys her - whether it's because there's a temptation there or simply because she can't justify her comments about my affection towards her, because she's the one that went straight into the arms of another person and not I.

She pushes me away and pulls me back in a single fluid motion, refusing to let me go. I'm too exhausted to fight and if I'm being honest, I don't really have a desire to. I allow her to manhandle me as she pleases, to bend and force me into whatever position suits her needs at the moment. I know it end well and the constantly changing dynamic of our friendship will leave us in an even more complicated place than we started. I'll close my eyes and give in again and again, welcoming the impact that knowing her brings because despite the fact that every fiber of my body knows that it's a bad idea, she's become a habit that I can't properly quit.

The trip was made at her request, despite my protests and against my better judgement. I silenced every rational voice and gave in to her again (and again). The trip was made at her request and she can barely look me in the eyes. I didn't come here to prove my point, but the fact that she fought so vehemently against me and then regurgitates my own concerns is infuriating. I told you so. There's no satisfaction in those words. It doesn't please me. I had no desire to be right - that's her modus operandi. I foolishly longed to believe her when she denied my claims and she didn't even bother to pretend to stick by her words.

We're not doing the same dance as before. Despite her beliefs and any residual feelings that may have lingered, I'm not standing at the sidelines and waiting for my turn with her on the floor. Previous justifications for her actions no longer exist - they've been put out in the open and she's made her choice. I have no interest in waiting around. I have been bypassed for another, yet demands her spot on my dance card be reserved. She proves her own self worth at my expense and I don't stop her.