I am in love with a monster. A thing so hated to the bone simply for its mystery. Monsters are beings one fears for its own ugliness, yet I love a thing so beautiful and rare it must be hideous to anyone else but me. It wages wars and beats its chest and mutters just to hear its echo, and I can feel an anger deep within him that sends shudders down my spine, as if my brain and my heart were two disconnected entities. The tremor of fear and the tremor of love are not so different, it seems.