Fear is power, let it be your lifeblood - or so they told me. I still drill the words sometimes. True weakness lay love, and trust. Through love we leave ourselves venerable to attack. Fear of attack leaves one cold, heartless and so this consumed me. A friend I had loved once, and who in return loved me, but could not have me, instead turned to torture. He forced me to become my worst enemy, setting my thoughts against each other. He forced me to reveal my innermost emotions, the haunting and above all else, the loneliness I had built myself into, all in a desperate, useless plea to gain his pity, and perhaps his mercy. But rather he turned my weaknesses into more torture, the little games he played. Too late, I grew strong, and we fought, he tearing me apart using my loneliness as a cruel and bitter weapon. After a single year he beat the life out of me, beat my will to live out of me and grew inside me a hatred for myself and the weakness I had found in trust.