Dear Christina,

I love it. I love the fact I have her, and you do not. It must **** you, seeing me with her. That you cannot kiss her or touch her the way I do. And you don't know all her secrets like I do. You don't know her at all. It must be eating away at you. I love it, because I hate you. *******. I am the one she wants and I am the one she loves. You'll never now half as much as I know. You'll never see her face after a long kiss, or feel her body curve into yours. You'll never see her naked and vulnerable, with big blue eyes looking up and long dark hair spilling over her shoulders. You'll never, ever know. And I smile richly at that. I despise you. Go to ******* hell. Leave her be, and leave us alone. ******* skitch.