There is no fevers, no rashes, no blood tests to send people scurrying in concern, just the slow erosion of self, as insidious as cancer. And like cancer it it essentially a solitary experience; a room to hell with only your name on the door.
My eyes seek for you whenever I walk by your hall. You are like this magnet that I’m drawn too and I cannot seem to pull away. You are the north and I’m the south and I’m attracted to you like a moth to a flame.