Words cannot describe the million conflicting emotions I feel everyday. The way they overwhelm me everytime I think of him, the way they flood my body everytime I see his name. I fear I will not be able to hold this flood back any longer. That the tide will tear open my body and they’ll all spill out. The things I’ve done to prevent this from happening, the torture I’ve inflicted on myself and others to prevent the embarrbumment and pain of unrequited love.

The marks on my arms show my desperation and self loathing at my cowardice. The absurd amount of weight gain from my lack of self esteem – I mean, if I’m not pretty, what’s the use in staying thin? He’ll never love me anyways.

And then there’s the sexual frustration. I fear I’ve permanently scarred my woman's genitals from the intense masturbation sessions I ritualisticly engage in. It’s a maddening insatiable lust that cannot be prevented, no matter where I am. And it keeps building. I’m never able to be satisfied so I’m constantly upping the ante. Pickles. Cugreat timesbers. Candles. Small animals. I’ve done it all. And it will never be enough.

The pain I’ve inflicted upon the many kidnapped and abused children I’ve used to temporarily abate these feelings will haunt me forever.