Later, as I’m lying in my bathtub, shower wand lowered to my desired position, all I can think of is why I can’t let James stay over. Now, before you go judging me, let me make one thing clear. I am a monster. A creature not of this earth. My emotions and actions are ruled by my passion. Although I try to suppress my devious nature, I just have way too much fun being me, to completely stop. So, where was I? Oh yeah, James. Three times, not including the first of course. All right, so four times. I have placed this wonderful, kind and gentle man in harm. You see, each and every time James has stayed the night in my bed he has woken up in my den. Okay, so it’s more of a dungeon, but in my defense, it is on the top floor. Why, you ask, would I lock up someone who is so willing to stay on his own? It’s my own insecurities, I suppose. It’s just that every time I see this amazing specimen of a man sleeping in my bed, I imagine my perfect life. The white, picket fence dream. Then I get possessive, then fearful he will leave when he discovers what I really am. Next thing you know, I’m bringing him takeout in chains.

Eventually, I erase his memories and set him free, but he always comes back. My biggest fear is that one of these times, I won’t be able to let him go. Or even worse, he won’t find his way back if I do.