I gave her a little bit of myself. I cut it out of my foot, just a small piece, because I didn't think she would stay too long and I didn't want anyone to know I was incomplete when she was gone. She was known for quick fits of passion that ended as soon as they began. I never thought my affair with her would be any different. So I knew that if the part of me I gave her was visible I would be asked why. Why did you give in? Why did you letyourself become another fool in her game? Why add yourself to her collection? Why, knowing you couldn't hold her, would you try to catch hold? And I know that they would never understand. Her love was fierce and wild and anyone who would question giving into that has never been close enough to that kind of love to understand. She loved with everything she had without hesitation; and so it burnt up quick. She loved until she couldn't love anymore. I couldn't imagine what that felt like so I gave in, gave away a bit of myself in exchange for a love so deep you couldn't ask for more. A sudden, fleeting moment of that kind of love was worth losing yourself.