Dec. 31, 2003 @ 2:41 p.m.

I want for you to give me goosebumps around every corner of my body, yet my desire remains unfulfilled. The bed’s characteristics mean nothing so long I can feel the heat rising from your uncovered skin, matching the tempo of your breathing as we lay here in the middle of winter with snow falling just outside the other realm of a bedroom window. I want it to be sensuous. I want it to be great. So wonderful that I can tell all of my friends, scream from rooftops and moan your name in my own bed as I play solitary games because I miss your physical love. I want it to be passionate, never-ending and perfect. I don’t want your emotion; I don’t want your love. I just want your body, here, right now, playing with mine.