Look at me. Yeah, you heard me right, look at me. Tell me, what do you see? Don't be shy, now. Think of this as an experiment. One in which you can test, one in which you can hypothesize. It's all in the learning process isn't it?

It's time for a little hands-on learning. And not the type you would consider as disgusting, though I must say, I've often thought of it. But I don't mean that at all. I don't think you know what I mean.

I can understand why it's hard for you to get me. I can't help but smile as you give me that look…the look that says I don't get it; I don't get you.

What I say is, you never will if you don't try. You hardly seem to put forth any effort at all.

So come on. A little experiment. I dare you.

If you said 'Hi' to me in the hallways, I'd for sure greet you back somehow.

If you had a load of books to carry, I'd open the door for you.

If you were behind on your trig homework, I'd be happy to help you out.

So what? Common courtesy. Conforming to the shape that society has molded. That's what you are thinking. I know.

But let's make this hypothesis more interesting. Let's change the variables from social to something a little more…physical. Maybe possibly emotional, if you want to be dramatic about it.

Let's say you were to pull out one of my hairs from my head. I would wince.

If you sneezed on me, I'd catch your cold.

What if you forced my fingers across a fresh leaf of paper? I'd get cut. I'd bleed.

If you sicced your boyfriend on me again, and he beat me to a bloody pulp, I'd have bruises. You've already seen him break my nose. But you haven't seen me break his soul…


If you touched my hand, you'd feel skin. My skin. A bunch of cells packed together. Epidermis…you have it too. And when you do touch it, I'd feel a jolt of electricity…warming, yet undeniably shocking. Would you feel anything?

If you sniffed the air around me, you'd smell my new cologne. Cologne I wear to impress someone. Someone who doesn't seem to get it at all. Someone who, obviously, doesn't get me.

If you happened to listen to a single word I say, not only would you know a lot more than you do now, but you'd hear a voice. A deep voice…a voice that others can hear.

But I don't care if they hear me. What are my words to them? A bunch of sound waves. My words to you, however, are so much more than that. More than you could ever imagine possible.

If you would only look at me, Suze, you'd see something. Something that's real. Something that's not a dream, not for pretend, something that truly exists in the world as we- and the others around us- know it. Something you choose not to see.

I want you to see it. I want you to look at me.

If you took away the one thing that was precious to me, I'd strive to get it back.

If you dangle a string in front of me, I'd paw at it like a cat. I'd chase it. Scramble after it. And when, at last, I'd catch it…I'd never let it go.

What if you wrapped your small fingers around my neck? Wouldn't I choke, if you pressed down hard enough? Wouldn't I eventually lose air?

If you would take my wrist and place your fingers to it, wouldn't you feel a pulse? My very veins pumping blood back to my heart.

And how about if you took a small dagger from the back pocket of those jeans that form to your hips so well? What if you took that dagger and stabbed me straight in the heart? It would hurt.

What's more, if you kissed me, Suze, you'd feel this repressed passion I had for you. You'd be giving me everything I want. Everything I desire.

And if you finally walked away, or pretended it never happened, or tried to deny it…you'd be taking it all away from me. Everything I had built it up to be would all come crashing down on.

And what would happen, then, Suze?

I'd die.

A/N: And I'd die if you didn't review.