Dear Journal,

It's been three days since the attempt and I can't clear it from my mind. It flashes back to me at odd hours of the night-me a crazed loon looming over with a thick pillow and him-a sappy excuse for a man struggling helplessly for air. What's worse is that I can't tell anyone about this. Phoebe is too close to Arnold and Helga...ah...helga. My sweet angel. What trickery had begotten you to marry such a murderous fool? I don't deserve such a woman. A saint doomed to live with a man who can barely live with himself. Sigh...

When I saw you that night at Chez Paris I could not wait to talk to you, to let you know that the world could be yours no matter who you chose. But now...in the depths of night I'm left with the guilt of trying to make that choice for you with a Target pillow. But this is mine alone to bear and maybe-someday soon, like the birth of our first born, I can let go of this burden and finally be weightless in your arms again.

Yours,

Brian.

"Is this good?" I ask tentatively.

"Oh yes!" She breathes. My hands run around her, touching, tapping and tickling her good spots while I thrust. She moans deeply with each push like she wants more, yet I'm holding back, struggle to break free of my thoughts. I try to let go, desperately waiting for my body to take control and do what she loves best. But I can't- too enveloped with the swirling thoughts that won't go away. Would Arnold do it this way? Or would he would be gentler? Would he be on top or insist on the bottom? Did he REALLY mean it when he said his kiss was a mistake? Or is that something he said, wishing he got more? My blood boils with each floating question and no matter how much I want to please Helga I just can't. Before I can try to continue my member shrinks away and I'm forced to withdraw.

"I'm sorry. I can't!"

"WHY? I was so close!"

"I don't know!" I lie, rolling over to pick up my tattered copy of Othello.

"You don't know? Since when don't you know?" She scoffs. She tears the play from my hands and looks at me, her ice blue eyes demanding to know what I don't dare explain. Oh Helga...can't you see? I almost KILLED a man to keep you. I almost took a life to make sure you'd be in mine forever. I don't deserve to share the same bed with you, let alone pleasure you. Don't you see that if something isn't done soon I'm bound to commit murder?

"Look Darling," I say soothingly, doing my best to ease myself "It's-it's-it's just this work thing. We've got this new program about to launch and it has to be perfect. In fact...why don't I go work on it now! I'd really feel better...I promise I won't be long!" I fake a smile and get dressed, wondering we're I'll hide today, hating that I'd have to. But what else can I do?

She turns over and for a second I think she's going to yell at me to come back. Instead she just hugs the covers and sobs lightly, breaking my heart one chamber at a time as I leave for "work," for the third day in a row.