p style="text-align: center;"strong style="max-width: 100% !important; text-shadow: none !important; box-shadow: none !important; color: inherit !important; border-color: #dddddd !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important;"Dear Goku,/strongbr style="max-width: 100% !important; text-shadow: none !important; box-shadow: none !important; color: inherit !important; border-color: #dddddd !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important;" /br style="max-width: 100% !important; text-shadow: none !important; box-shadow: none !important; color: inherit !important; border-color: #dddddd !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important;" /br style="max-width: 100% !important; text-shadow: none !important; box-shadow: none !important; color: inherit !important; border-color: #dddddd !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important;" /span style="color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px;" /spanem style="max-width: 100% !important; text-shadow: none !important; box-shadow: none !important; color: inherit !important; border-color: #dddddd !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important;"It has/emem style="max-width: 100% !important; text-shadow: none !important; box-shadow: none !important; color: inherit !important; border-color: #dddddd !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important;" /emem style="max-width: 100% !important; text-shadow: none !important; box-shadow: none !important; color: inherit !important; border-color: #dddddd !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important;"been three months, Three. Fucking. Months. Since I've seen your deep, foolish, grey eyes. And I think my insides are mealting from the heat and fury that is bubbling up and swelling my already fragile heart. I know... I know that you have a family. No no, I didn't forget that. With your perfect little wife and your perfect, soon-to-be-born son. But that NEVER stopped you before. So why is it stopping you now? Is it your guilt? Is it your sudden realization of your commitment of adultery? I'm laying here; still Bewildered at your sudden change of heart. Even though it happened so long ago. Or just, three months ago. No... I was supposed to be the one, I was supposed to be your... your other half. Not her. We grew up together; how could you have picked her over me?! You knew her so faintly... but you knew everything about me. I would spill my secrets so quickly after you'd flash one of your big, perfect, mischievous smiles; followed by a long, sweet, "Please?" We spared together, we ate lunch together every Wednesday, you would take me to the mall to watch me try on dresses and tell me which ones you liked. We did EVERYTHING together. I know every thing about you, and she knows NOTHING about you. I don't understand... why did you agree? You never purposed, never asked her to to the movies, you never even asked her out in the first place! But we, we were in love. You told me yourself. That night that we fell asleep together, behind Master Rouchi's beach house. You had layed me down beside a few flower bushes and palm trees so no one could see us. And as you leaned in to kiss me, all I could do was stare at your perfect, strong body. As you began to lower your kisses to my collar bone, you /emem style="max-width: 100% !important; text-shadow: none !important; box-shadow: none !important; color: inherit !important; border-color: #dddddd !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important;"chuckled at my every attempt I made to hide my moans of delight and sighed in my ear that you loved me. Before I could have responded you kissed my lips passionately and continued on your mission to conquer and dominate every square inch of my body with your chapped, pink lips. As you pulled my sports bra up to admire my breasts, you grunted softly in desire and kissed and sucked on both of my tender breasts. Occasionally, I remember how you groaning about how beautiful I was and how much you cared for me. My god... if only I knew that within the next week you would be engaged to HER. I begged you, pleaded with you to change your mind. To rethink your desisions; for me. And you told me... to mind my own business. YOU. The man who took my purity only a week before, the man who profusely told me how much you loved and admired me, had told me to piss off. Feeling like I had done something wrong to you; I adhered to your hurtful command, Feeling guilty and overwhelmed by your apparent hate. But soon after your wedding with that woman, you came back to me in the night. You made love to me once again; tearing my sleeping shirt and shorts off of my athletic, feminin body. Your tongue had slid into me. slowly at first, enjoying my taste and the torment that you brought to my small body at your slow pace. But surely, you quickened. And right as I was about to climax, you stopped. I layed on my bed; panting, whining; asking why you had suddenly stopped. "Beg" you growled in a strong, low voice. I was confused at first, but you said it again. Much, much more aggressive. "BEG!" Frightened and slightly aroused by your new-found dominance; I did as you growled, and before I knew it you had flipped my body so I was on my hands and knees. You slid your cock into me once again for the second time. And again, pain had rushed into my hips. It always hurt at first. No matter how many times we did it, It always hurts in the beginning. You never cared. Did you? You never cared if you hurt me or not. when I would confront you about it, you always used the same excuse. "You just bring the monster out in me... I don't know why, but you do." Or "Your just so... needy. I can smell you for miles away." And I eventually believed you. When I would become aroused or be on a date with another man, trying to forget about you... you would always. ALWAYS. Take me away, weather I wanted to go or not. And every time you did; it always ended the same. I would lay limp, sweating, panting, and sore all over. And you would sit, with a satisfied smirk playing in your face. This went on; for a long, long time. And you know it. I would cry sometimes, I would beg you to let me go. I would beg you to leave your estranged, super model wife that you knew, that I was tremendously jealous of. You knew that I wanted to marry you. But you did nothing. You teased me, tainted me with the hatred for another woman and the self disgust that quickly followed. But now... it's over. You came to me, three months ago in a cold sweat; and explained to me that you were going to be a father. And I watched as you shielded yourself; trying to avoid my eyes. My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. All of the sex, all of the self hate, all of the lies that had been told that changed me forever; was for nothing. You quickly excused yourself after saying a quick and awkward goodbye, leaving me alone with myself. I don't think I can even look at myself in the mirror. I don't even know who I would be looking at if I did. But your fine, Bulma told me so. She showed me pictures of you holding your bitch of a wife that were only taken a few weeks ago. How could you... how could you have spent so long traumatizing a woman that you grew up with and be fine?! Well I'm not. I will NEVER BE FINE. Your fingers are still left in my veins. Your spit is still trapped forever infecting my once pure soul. I'm leaving. And writing this letter to send to all of our friends and your wife to show how much of a fucker and a cheater you really are. They've all noticed that I've changed. Bulma had even offered to take me to a doctor and Krillin has even made it a point to spar with me on the weekends; even though I'm stronger than he is and he knows it. I just felt like I should send this one specially to you so you can reread and revisit the pain and hate that I've felt for you, so you can wallow in self pity and hatred as you made me do for so long. br style="max-width: 100% !important; text-shadow: none !important; box-shadow: none !important; color: inherit !important; border-color: #dddddd !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important;" /br style="max-width: 100% !important; text-shadow: none !important; box-shadow: none !important; color: inherit !important; border-color: #dddddd !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important;" / strong style="max-width: 100% !important; text-shadow: none !important; box-shadow: none !important; color: inherit !important; border-color: #dddddd !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important;"Love,br style="max-width: 100% !important; text-shadow: none !important; box-shadow: none !important; color: inherit !important; border-color: #dddddd !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important;" /. Your Admirer /strong/em/p