She's more than a distraction. She's bewildering. I don't know if I need her or not, that shouldn't even matter since she might have a higher purpose. Perhaps her role would be to give meaning. Not that my life is meaningless, but I've equated the meaning of my life to its purpose. If I set romanticism aside then she will not mean anything as I've defined meaning to be. But then why is she important to some twisted part of me?
She challenges me. More importantly, she challenges my definition. No, she makes me challenge it with her abstractness, she demurs who I am. She slickly takes my words apart so the fabrics of my intellect are no longer in accord with me.
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