She is insane, not in love

If there was anything that I'd done to cause this attraction, I believe I would have noticed it. 

The only explanation for her unwillingness to leave me would be madness. 

She's insane, I know it.

 Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to get away from her. 

That's a lie, I am trying to get away from her, but not for a common reason.

It's not that she abuses me, because she doesn't. It's not our past, or the fact that I'm scared to death of interaction with her. Why did I type that? I don't want people to know that! Much less her, if she happens to read this.. Oh well. I might as well explain that last bit; I stay true to my vow. I'm afraid of interaction with her, because I never seem to get a word out. She isn't too chatty, she's not a bulldozer in a conversation, and she isn't the type to interrupt. It's that when I try and speak, I cannot seem to find the words. 

I like to think that I am good with words. Say this out loud, reader. The mists of endless times creep over the silenced plains of our perception, taking no rest through this curling sensation of lapse, I sigh in relief at the sweet misfortune of times passed, and pasts through time.
It's not that I can't speak to a woman either. Most of my friends are women. 

That sounds pleading.. 

I don't like how pleading that sounds.

I think that I've been circling around the point. Underwriting and all that jazz gets to me sometimes. 

I think the point I am trying to make, is that when I'm near her, my mind goes to a poetic place. My lips ache to spew out phrases that only I would understand. I think that one time I let one slip, and it took ten minutes for me to recover from it. What did I say? Something about it not being goodbye, but until next time? For God's sake, I've written poems to her out of nothing, just to brighten her day a little. I say a little, because all I've gotten in reply so far is “ That made me smile.” and “Nice :)”. I run from her, kicking and screaming sometimes. I push myself away from her through arguments and faked intolerance of her ways. 

I know why. 

It's because I'm afraid that I might just be in love with her, and that she might love me back already. That can't be true though. She's beautiful and smart, over thinking and understanding.

 She drives to see me, and sits in the freezing cold. She is a wonderful person. 

I am a madman.

She has her problems, and I help her through them, but love? Perish the thought and damn the thinker.

She is insane, and only sticks around because of that fact. 

Yes, she doesn't understand what she's doing. That is the only possible explanation.