I'm at my boiling point. I don't think I can take this for very much longer. It's been over a month since I've seen Mr. Wrong and my wild imagination has taken me over. Sent me flailling at the baracade of time. Pushed me dangerously close to the edge of my doom, where it grows like a bacteria, poison to all of my hopes and dreams.

I imagine him in the arms of another woman, maybe the buxum blonde, maybe some other girl... Kissing her neck, searching hands on her body... whispering softly to her... pulling her close in that passionate desperate way that he does... I imagine him looking accross at her from the table, romantic and sweet. Laughing with interested eyes, carefully charming, anticipating his next move, her desire, the pleasure to follow... so soon... I imagine these things with a broken heart in my throat. I imagine these things and I want to die. I want to cry out, curl up inside, punch his face with my bleeding little fists.

I am about to boil over and I don't know what to do. I am angry now. Hurt. Bewildered. My universe is unstable, on the quiet verge of absolute extinction. I am afraid. Simple. Pure. Without any mercy. I close my eyes right now, not ready for what's next.