She's so beautiful. Consuming my every thought. Everywhere I go, I see her. Every reflection, every thought. I just can't escape her. The pictures of us “together” that hang on my walls are painful reminders of the love I’ll never have. Yet still I yearn, and I’ll never lose hope.

I don't remember when this desire began. Perhaps I was born with it. Love knows no bounds right? Love is destinal? We're fated to be together, somehow.

She has long, golden locks that catch the smallest glimmer of light. They cause her to glow, angelically. Her high cheekbones perfectly frame her cute little upturned nose. She has small lines beside her luscious, velvety lips that hint at how often she smiles and laughs.

I really could go on about the rest of her body, but I'm already welling with lust, just thinking about her. It's an itch that I just can't scratch.

All of my sex toys, vibrators, dildos, etc… they pale in comparison to the stimulation she gives me. I've tried to turn my thoughts away, tried taking other lovers, but there’s nothing they give me that I can’t achieve on my own. It’s painful, but I know I can't have her. In this day and age, lesbianism isn't the taboo it once was, but there's something else in the way.

More tragic than Romeo and Juliette, more wanton than The Rocky Horror Picture Show, more futile than The Battle of Thermopylae. My love is both inspiring and doomed.

As I stare into the mirror, I see not myself, but the beautiful and magnificent visage of my true love. The only thing that’s ever truly stirred my emotions. Frustration builds.

“How can life be so cruel!” I yell, as I hammer my fist into the smooth glass, sending hundreds of fragments of my forbidden lover cascading about the bathroom.

That’s when I see it. It all hits me. Through a tiny sliver of what was once my bathroom mirror, she coyly glances at me. Raw sexual energy seeps through the shattered fragment.

Hastily, I scoop up as many small pieces as I can. Innumerable flawless and alluring faces. It’s almost orgasmic.

“I’ll find a way to feel you, feel your warmth…” I mutter, as small nicks and cuts in the flesh of my hands gently seep the warm, thick syrup of life down my wrists.

Slowly, I put the handful of fragments into my mouth. It’s painful, but love isn’t always easy.

As I walk out into my living room, I stare at the large picture on the wall. Her and I together. To someone on the outside, they’d see a single person, see vanity, but I see the perfect couple.

“We’ll finally be together.” I think to myself, as I take a deep breath in through my nose while blood begins to seep from the corners of my mouth.

Then, I swallow.

By: Taylor, aka Tewahway