We kissed, I felt her lips connect as if we were one, and yet I wanted more. I could not resist her, her looks of pleasant torture, and warmest of the body. Long ago, her beauty vanished, and left there was nothing but hate. I wanted her to be my everything, I wanted more, but I could see nothing but hatred. She began to turn cold as ice, I had as of yet seen her true colors, and thus I begin to be misunderstood. The love which I begin to see from her was just my imagination and nothing more was left than a mere kiss along with a body connection we once shared. Now the distance became a reality, and I was left in an unreality which was once lovely. Now knowing myself and the journey I took was a harmful mistake with an unclear past of cold remorse.