The two things in the world she wanted most to do were to kiss him or to disappear. She wasn't picky about which. It didn't matter anyway because she wasn't going to be able to do either.

The notion just drove her mad.

She couldn't understand what was going on.

What was wrong with her?

She wanted it to stop, these feelings.

Her giggling, her blushing, the coy, wry looks she snuck.

She wanted the thoughts of him to stop. She couldn't stand to replay his image inside her head again.

She wished, for his sake, that he didn't have to make her suffer. She'd die if she found out that she'd ever made him feel bad about the light in his eyes or the twinkle in his smile or the laughter in his voice, even though the truth was, it all made her crazy.

She wanted things to be simple, smooth, seamless. She wanted to be able to talk with him again. She wanted to be able to look at him without melting, or touch him without feeling dizzy. She wanted to be able to know that they were friends and that she could cherish that fact forever, no matter how he made her feel.

But suddenly, she wasn't in control of any of that anymore.

Instead, she was in love.

And that was a lot more dangerous.

She imagined him again and it almost made her start to cry.

If they weren't friends and they weren't lovers and they weren't strangers, what did that make them now?

She just didn't know what to do.

She wished she could hide.

She always wished she could hide.

But this time, something inside told her that she couldn't.

She already knew that running away wouldn't work, this time.

She couldn't get rid of her problems by ignoring them anymore.

He was the biggest threat to her comfort that she had ever encountered, yet at the same time he was her only chance to be free and happy. He was her salvation from emotional starvation.

He was a paradox, an enigma; her enigma.

So no, she wouldn't be able to forget about him that easily.

But she wouldn't be able to make him fall for her, either.

That's why love was so confusing to her.

It was a two-way street, but both of the streets were long, dark allies.

There was no one to tell her which way to turn.

She might as well close her eyes and just hope that the two of them crossed paths somewhere along the line.

Somehow…

And if they didn't?

Well then, maybe she'd be able to find her way back to the place from which she'd began, to start over again.

Some day…

All of a sudden one day, the idea hit her.

She couldn't bear to be herself anymore, so why not become someone else entirely?

It really wouldn't be so hard.

And maybe it'd be good for her. Maybe it'd inspire her. Maybe it'd make her feel more confident. Maybe that'd make her better for him.

Or maybe it'd make her someone unlikable, unappealing, a freak. Maybe it would turn him off and finally put some distance between them. It would finally end the torture of having to see his face everywhere she went while still feeling so blind. It could give her the perfect excuse to shut her eyes and sob and whisper bitterly to herself that he had never really understood her anyway, never really cared for her anyway, and it really never could have worked out anyway, and it was so much better now that she knew better than to put any stock at all into any flimsy hopes for the contrary.

If she wasn't herself then he would either love her or leave her.

She wasn't picky about which.

There was a choice ahead of her now. Would she try to seduce him or scare him? There wasn't a way that she could possibly do both… was there?

She decided that she'd start with a relatively simple way to make herself over. An aesthetic diversion. Just a small detail, but one that could subtly change everything…

She started out with a simple hat.

And then, she took it to an extreme.

She looked in the mirror one day and saw she was someone different.

It was exactly who she needed to be.

It was so much more than she had ever dared to hope for. Her head had become a squid. She smiled, but she couldn't see it on her face.

Her tentacles were in the way.

"What... happened?"

She could hear his voice, but she couldn't decipher the emotion behind it.

She also couldn't tell if he was real this time or just another illusion, delusion, just another figment of her anguished imagination.

It wasn't surprising, really, for someone who didn't even know anymore if she was a girl or a monster.