The monster inside me is winning. I tried to hold it off for so long. My strength is winding down. This battle is won. I am messing with love. You love her, and I cannot control that. Your heart is not my puppet, as much as I would love to hold the strings. On the outside, I am happy for your everlating love, but the monster inside will not stop until it has that happiness as well. My monter wants to destroy this love so that it has a chance. See, this monster has never really known love; only sadness and heartbreak. I tell it to give up; it isn't worth fighting for. But the monster is detached. It fights for its own desires. It longs for the chemistry it has seen in society; portrayed by movies and novels flawlessly. It has decided to take what is not hers to take. My monster lives in ice. This heart of mine is surrounded and longing for that one spark to melt it. My monster is doomed with the curse of being alone. Over the years though, it has learned the art of destorying itself, reassembling itself, and making it new. My heart hopes that one day it will become unbreakable. This battle inside cannot be won. It won't stop until it kills me.