It's funny how sometimes, even though you know it will hurt, that does not stop you. When I met him, I knew that my heart was bound to fall into pieces. It's like hitting the wall when you're angry, the result is that your hand is hurting but the feeling of letting your anger go is delightful. 

He was younger than me, way younger, almost seven years between us. And he used to make my heart beats a little too fast, even though I tried to denied it. Far from being my ideal type, he was a wounded kid, and all he was asking was an embrace. A safe place, where he would slowly heal his tormented soul.