She said, "no, it doesn't matter." But, something in her voice convinced me not to believe her. Or perhaps, it was the fire in her eyes, that will to defy, that so captivates me and forces me into these capitulating circumstances. I would have argued if not for my own arcane desire. How can you question the love of another without opening old wounds? No good would come from continuing this line of questioning and I would certainly not achieve my own goals. Still, I couldn't help but wonder if there really was an end to all of this. Could it be possible to relinquish the past to the deepest recesses of the heart, or would it remain always entwined in the fabric of her being? Perhaps, I wasn't the one to ask being that I had my fair share of scars. I said, "okay," and led her to the queen-sized bed. I loved her intensity, though I knew I could never trust her wild heart. Her skin felt like velvet on mine, and I kissed her with passion, hoping to wash away the stains of my own doubts and misgivings. Hoping she could forget the ominous past that threatened to steal this moment away from me.