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Crucified

Rosalie Lane. She crucified me, my soul. She crucified my soul. My heart. Every bit of me. My soul died, only to be reborn. I would have rather she physically killed me than have to endure the permeating heart and soul pain that seemed to never end.

I wanted her to come back, for her to chase me again, after it had all ended. That's what she wanted though, she wanted me to chase her.

"The girls don't chase the boys, Randy, the boys chase the girls!" My father would state, sternly and stoically.

I never did chase. I was always the chased. I preferred it that way. I am not chasing any one. If you want to be in my life, which is quite exclusive, you make me the chased. 

I was a foolish young man.

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