He is such a beautiful speck in the horrid universe, yet he does not even slightly comprehend how rare he is. Everything about him consists of a strange sincere innocence that even I cannot fully fathom. I wish to envelope myself in every fabric of his being, for I have never felt such a delicious desire for something so pure.

As I try to pull myself from this yearning, I simply ache more painfully for his delicate flesh to press into mine; he has created a longing in me that is unable to be denied. It seems as though this inevitable attraction would be nothing more than lust, but this unique wanting that I feel for him is something deeply inhuman and even more than something as great as love. The sweet taste of his skin and the amazing happiness that I feel just when thinking of him tells me that I need him, and I know that I have thrust myself into a lone world in which only he exists. He is mine, and I pray that he wishes for me to be his as well.