Vicky's Secret

I've been left to an empty house for a few days. Hopefully I'll make good use of it instead of having a meltdown like the last time. The Victoria's Secret catalog came in the mail today. And I started flipping through it and found myself thinking almost by reflex oh here's something he would like. I wanted to slap myself for being so stupid. Stupid enough to still think there's some chance that something I wear might make some bit of difference. It's ridiculous, actually.

I think I stopped having a body a long time ago. Along with a personaility or allure or anything else that might be worth something to someone else. There is nothing left of that except for a hollow, colorless shell. Whatever Vicky's secret is, it's not going to help me now.