It was almost as if she fell into him. His glittering eyes shone with trust and peace...the very things she lacked and craved. She watched him flow with his hypnotic words and gestures, as if motioning for her (and only her) towards him. She could only watch as her palms drew sweat and her adrenaline rose. She slide into her chair, memorizing his liquid movements and trying to remind herself that she followed a dream...a hopeless dream. She knew he was far from her reaches, but, oh, how she hoped, prayed, and wished for her chance at happiness. He was her knight in shining armor. He was her Godsend. He was her everything. There were times she had to remember to breathe when he entered a room. She closed her eyes, counted to three, and silently prayed that his presence wasn't a dream. When she opened those watchful eyes, there were countless occasions where she had mistaken someone else's form for his. How could she allow herself to do that? No one else amounted up to him. He was her lifeline, the sheer reason for her continual breathing (no matter how many times forgotten). She longs for communication...for actual human contact, yet she is sheltered as she slides deeper into her chair and reminds herself again of her hopelessness...and her breathing.