Will it ever end? No. It cannot. From the moment of my conception this curse has been bestowed upon me. It will forever be a part of my everyday life until I am fated to leave this world. This is the way it all happened. This is what is inside me, what has been for years now. A sickness, an infection that has traveled through every part of my mind, body and soul, that cannot be cured even by death. To the average person, this may sound insane, but insanity would be a break from the torture that my mind resides in. And this is my story.

I fell in love with him before I even saw his face. On December 2, 1994, I heard his voice for the first time, and was instantly paralyzed by this angelic sound. It was the single moment that would change my life forever. I now had something to call my own. The music did something to me that no words could ever possibly express. I was taken to another dimension every time I listened. They were mine. Mine. For the next 3 months I went on imagining what he would look like. But it wouldn't have mattered if I ever saw him because he already won me. When I saw his picture for the first time, it was almost like I had just given birth. How can someone so beautiful be human? I would never be the same again. I would never be sane again. I would never be me again. I understood everything he sang about. I didn't sympathize or empathize, but I understood him inconceivably. I remember the way I wanted to mother him back then, if I ever had the chance to. I now understood that it was possible to know and love someone that you never talked to or touched, in a different way. So after about a year and a half of trying to translate his words into something I could grasp, I began to have sick dreams and fantasies about him. These dreams turned every pure thought that was ever instilled in my catholic school girl mind into sick, demented fantasies and desires that can never come back under my control. This is where it all started to become my own private hell.

I started to see his face everywhere. Why do people have to be so fake and pretend that they know him? I could not let go of the fact that they were mine. They would always be mine. I always asked myself- Why can't they just stay the way they were? But it was inevitable that other people would start to hear how incredibly talented they are and I had to give that aspect up. It helped me a little bit to know that I had something in common with him. A story of his stepmother-almost exactly the same as mine. As for the sick fantasies, they continued to evolve and infect my brain to a point that was unfathomable.

I got to hug him on March 23rd of 99'. As he stood in front of me that night, I remember thinking that I would never for as long as I lived, see someone as beautiful as he was at that moment. The way his hair felt, his smell, everyday I long for that moment to be mine again. I should have never tried to meet him. I didn't expect to, but some roadie for Zombie wanted me too bad so I figured I could lead him on and use it as an opportunity to get close to HIM, which worked. I couldn't even drive home that night. I had to sit in my car in the freezing cold rain for 2 hours because I couldn't feel my legs. I didn't think what had happened was real. That I hugged him. And when I did I felt his hair. I never felt anything softer, and I did not want to let go of him. I inhaled his smell to make sure that it would run through my veins like blood, becoming a part of me that I would always have. Yes it's a privilege to love and know so much about someone and be consumed by them every waking moment, but sometimes I wonder if all the pain of loving him is worth living through it every single day of my life. In my heart I know he is worth anything. Just because he saves me. If anyone ever knew these feelings that are buried deep inside, I would be even more of an outcast than I already am. What would they think of this seemingly normal, pretty, all-American girl? Why do people want to know me so bad and then shun me when they find out what I like?

As of right now, my unrealistic goal in life is to make him happy. Not that I'd ever be given the opportunity to, but I know that somewhere inside of myself is the ability to make him happy. Because were both utterly sick beyond help. Sometimes I think of it as the Capricorn curse. Every Capricorn I know including myself is in some way fucked up. How sick can I get? To think that I would let him even physically hurt me or do anything he wanted to me, am I wrong? Am I wrong for letting him make me bad? Why does he do this to me? I can't even listen to him with other people around. I don't want anybody to know the sound of him. I have to fall asleep facing the wall so I don't see him looking down at me with his sad eyes, afraid of seeing him in my dreams. Afraid because I don't know what deranged fantasies I'll think of next that I won't be able to get out of my head, that won't let me focus on what I need to in everyday life. He said it best "I need to feel the sickness in you"- my sentiments exactly. And it's not even like I'm obsessed with him in a way that I want him forever or I would stalk him or anything, I just need to be clean again. I need this medication that is him. I need him to see that there is someone out there just as messed up as he is, even if he's the reason that I'm messed up.

I wonder if even if I had one whole night with him to do as he pleased with me, would that even cure me? Would being able to have him inside of me be enough? "put me…inside". Just the way he sounds when he sings that line… I feel like he's talking to me. I swear that song was made for me. I need to have him inside me to feel any kind of relief from this agony. I need to feel the sickness in his blood. I need to feel what's in his soul. My favorite image of him (which is also the only image that gives me a feeling of pleasure) is where He's standing in the snow. I wish I could've been there with him while he was catching snowflakes on his tongue. I wish I could've been one of the snowflakes. At least then I would have gotten to be inside him, cleaning out his soul, making him content somehow. The more I think about it though, there probably really is no way to make him happy. Because if he at all feels as psychotic as I do, then there can be no possible remedy. There's no limit to what I would do to try and fix this. This fucking monster that is eating away at me day and fucking night. I wish I could spit out these demons as fast as I could spit out his lyrics or facts about the band. Why did I ever start this? Why couldn't I see it back then? Maybe because I was only 15. Why couldn't I see what it would turn into? Maybe somewhere inside I really don't even want it to stop. Maybe I think that I'm insane, but in reality it's what keeps me sane. I can't even be with my boyfriend that much anymore because I'm afraid that everytime I close my eyes I'll see his face. Is this my fucking reality?

Jon. I live my life for you. I may be a mature, pretty girl, but that's only on the outside. On the inside I'm black with poison. If you're not the poison, then you're the cure. But if you're not the cure, you're definitely the poison. Whichever it is I don't think I can ever give it up. Sometimes I think that being this way is a privilege because nobody else will ever know how truly beautiful you are without the demons. And sometimes I think that this commitment of almost 6 years is just a waste of time that has ruined my entire life. If I have to, I can only live with this torment forever because I know that you exist. And that maybe someday, somewhere, somehow- even in another life, you will be able to mend me. No matter what, until the day I die and when I'm lying on my deathbed, there will be two men in this world who will be on my mind every single minute. My boyfriend, who is my one and only link to reality and who is the only person in the entire world who can put up with my episodes of semi-depression- and you, who made me into what I am today. A sick, deranged yet beautiful, personable woman who owes you her life. There are so many things I can tell you. If I could have one dying wish right now, it would be to spend a day or night alone with you for obvious reasons. ("all I wanna do is get with you and make the pain go away"). You really are utopia to me. Maybe someday I'll get a chance to talk to you for a longer amount of time. Maybe I won't. Most likely the latter. I'll always be here in Philly for ya, so if you're ever here and you're bored, look me up and I'd be glad to show you a few things. For whatever it's worth, I love you. You will be engraved in my soul forever.