At the age of five she has already come to terms with one of the life's harshest lessons: that the world isn't fair.

It's horrible being ashamed of someone you care about; it eats away at you. And if you let it get to you, if you give up the fight and surrender, eventually that shame turns to hate.

...and my loneliness, always my loneliness - that airless bubble of despair that is slowing stifling me.

Trying to describe my life and feelings to you is like trying to describe coulours to the blind, or music to the deaf. It's simply not possible.

If I move, if I speak, if I so much as blink, I'm going to lose this battle.

I don't know when it started - this thing - bit it's growing, muffling me, suffocating me like poison ivy. I grew into it. It grew into me. We blurred at the edges, became an amorphous, seeping, crawling thing.

I mean, at the end of the day, what the hell does it matter who I end up with if it can't be you?