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I fell in love with him, despite all the warnings. All the signs, 'Turn back', 'Wrong way', 'Beware', they said. But still, I continued to fall. And I wasn't ashamed. I wasn't embarrassed, and I wasn't scared. For the first time, I was strong, confident. I had hope again, hope that things could be okay. So, I let myself fall, knowing with certainty he would catch me. And catch me, he did. I'd never been caught before, but here I was, in his loving arms, staring into his beautiful eyes. And he stared right back, unlike all the others. He was different, he saw the sparkle. He was real. And when he dropped me, I forgave him, because I knew it wasn't his intention. He didn't want to let go, he just felt afraid. The warning signs frightened him, and he didn't want to go too far. And I, having been too busy staring into his eyes to even notice them anymore, fell directly on my face, completely unprepared for the impact. And as he ran, I bled endlessly. And just when the blood would start to clot, I would pick it open again, desperate for him to see what he had caused. I told myself I would never again ignore the signs, for they always seemed to hold the truth. And as the scrapes turned to scabs, I looked up. There he was, red eyes and messy hair, with scabs that matched my own. When I asked him what happened, "I fell, running away," he said. "It wasn't long before I had to force myself to even walk." I told myself I couldn't believe his words, for if I hit the ground again, I may just shatter. But when he picked me up again, he held me so tightly to his chest. I felt completely secure. "I'll never loosen my grip..." he whispered. I smiled as I watched my cuts and bruises heal before my eyes, along with his own. And, feeling the difference in the way he held me, I relaxed into his arms.