I watched you present her to your father, watched you glowing with pride at your catch. I watched and inside I died. No longer were you my Pairs, my light, my joy, and my love. No, you are hers now, fair Helen's. Once Helen of Sparta now Helen of Troy. You looked at her so lovingly with your chocolate eyes, the way you used to look at me as we lay in a field under the golden sun or in the dark of night, embraced in each other's arms. You tore your eyes away from your beloved Helen for a brief moment to glance around the rest of the hall. Woe it was that the first thing you laid eyes on was I.

"Dearest cousin!" You shout and gather me up with those strong arms. How I wish you would hold me forever but you pull back, "How do you fair?" Your eyes searching me but not really seeing me, eyes only for Helen.

"Briseis has given herself to Apollo my son, a priestess of the gods now." Uncle Priam replies while patting my shoulder and looking at you, eyes filled with adoration and pride, the way he usually looks at Hector.

'Only because I could not have you!' My thoughts scream, begging you to hear them but you cannot read my eyes like you once could.

"The men of Troy must have been very upset!" You laugh and playfully hug me again sending an ache through my body, you pull me over to Helen and I smile. Playing nice, playing dumb I hug her and welcome her to Troy. It appears as if nothing is wrong but oh so much is.

Why can I not have you? What cruel god decided that I must suffer, have I done something to offend them? Not that I can think of, I give my self to Apollo during the day and at night I cry myself into a hallow sleep, no one to watch me cry, no one to comfort me. I see you with her through out the palace, throwing myself into my studies does not work and I fear that it never will. Sometimes you spot me and beckon, asking me to join in your world for a brief moment but I feel like so much of an outcast, so much of a burden that I leave almost immediately. Hoping that you will call me back but alas, you never do. I haven't yet a chance to be alone with you since she's arrived, she hangs on you as if you were life itself and yes I am bitter and yes I am hurt but worst of all I fear that you will never know.

My dear Paris I am dying from this. Truly dying. The days are bleak and jumbled, the nights unbearable. I do not know how much longer I can take this and now our city; our lives are at stake because of her. Because of your precious Helen and I do not want to die without you knowing of the pain I feel in my now empty heart.