Loving her was a bit like
Sitting close to a fire.
Comforting, inviting, hypnotic.
But sometimes the heat was too much.
It wasn't her fault. It was never her fault.
I couldn't ground myself long enough
To reciprocate her engulfing flames.
But there was something about her.
Something that made me come back every time.
I don't know why she kept welcoming me back.
I was a cold mess, an ice cube of a person.
She could melt my walls, but I didn't mind.
But then I would realize the puddle around me,
And retreat again. And again. And again.
But she was just too warm and just too bright for me to stay away.