January 30, 2018:

I love her beautiful skin. Pure milky white, as the Victorians admired.

I love her taste, the curve of her thigh, her beautiful long hair against my chest.

I love her high girlish voice in passion, when she calls me "daddy" and means it.

I want to say "I love you."
I want her to want to be with me and conquer my loneliness.
I want her to move in.
I want her.

Maybe that's a good place to stop.