"I'm just fooling myself. She'll never see me as anything... but a monster. It's hopeless."
It's no wonder I relate to the Beast so well. She definitely is beautiful, and the thoughts of her consume precious seconds. But why? I hardly know her, and it seems doubtful that I'll ever know more than that. So why must she fill my mind every second? This can't be love, can it? That sounded gay just writing that. What the hell is wrong with me? Then again, I haven't felt this way since high school, the butterflies, the shakes, the general nervousness. It's been four years. I'd forgotten the feeling.
Is it fear that paralyzes me?
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"I confess, I'm always afraid, always ashamed, of what's inside me, I confess, I'm always afraid, always ashamed of what's inside my head."
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