. She was torn from me. Stolen by my best friend, no less.

I look at the love and affection on their faces, and I know a pain so stabbing so tremenmdous, like a fish skewered on a grill. What can I do to allay this horrible sensation? How can I plaster a false smile upon my face and pretend it doesn't bother me that the woman I love and a man who is like a brother to me, have found comfort in each other?

Oh Rachel. Why did I do things the way I did? So many times, I could have told you. Hindered by my pride, and my fascinating paleontology work.

But now it is too late. I can see they're in love.

I feel as though I am the one torn.