My girl

Someone I can never fully understand. At times I feel like everything's perfect when we're together, like nothing could go wrong. I'm so happy with her during these moments, but just as easily as they came, they just as easily are snatched away from me. It's like seeing a rainbow at the end of a rain storm, and then seeing lightning strike through that rainbow five seconds later. I wonder, where did all that just come from? One minute my heart is full, maybe too full, on the verge of exploding with joy, and in the next minute, I'm trying to find my heart as it got snatched away. Desperately, I search for the source, the thief that has so willingly stolen my sense of life... and then I look back at her, and I question the situation. She blames herself, more than what's necessary, for the cause of my aching pain. For my loss. Every time I attempt to find a reason not to blame or question her, yet I'm angry all the same. One part of me is throwing out a pitiful attempt at optimism, while the other part of me is screaming loud on the inside, trying to find a way to claw out of the dark, miserable state of depression I feel. Many outside voices in my head and all around repeat through my ears a lot, telling me to let go of her, give up, and find a new inspiration for happiness. Yet, it's all the same. I stay anyway. I Love her, deeply, despite all the fear I have when I'm near her. Despite the times that I fear her*, and what she can say or do, I still find myself crawling on my knees, begging for her to see the quality in me. Always begging for her to love me as I love her. The feeling is endless, which she seems to so blindingly disregard, and at times, I want her to disregard my love because that's the angry side of me, the side that's unforgiving and hateful. The side that feels tempted quite often to diminish my minds' thoughts, and be, as she says, 'numb', to every feeling and every one.
And again, it's all the same. The part of me that loves... Remains victorious. This part of me lets go of all the pain as instantly as a snap of the finger, and then I realize that it's not me that matters. It never was. It's about her; it always has been. From the moment I laid eyes on this girl, to the moment now, where she is still frightening me to death with her melancholic words, I know deep down, whether I obtain a heart or not... It's still hers. She's still my girl, perfect or not, she's mine. And that's something those voices unfortunately do not have... And never will, because I Love her, and no one can ever love her more than I do. Thankfully, that part of me will never allow myself to let her go, nor will it ever let anyone take her away. Not even in death, could she be taken away from my side.