Variations on a Theme

I feel it. Again.

The creeper-like hold it has on me, strangling all reason out of me. I struggle against its powerful clasp; kicking, pushing.

Like a needle, I plunge into the deep. Falling. Falling fast. Not yet landing.

Am I playing with fire again? After getting my fingers burned…do I still…? And this time, it’s different, yet the same.

I suspect…I suspect I may love him.