I become very unhappy when I think about her, almost to the point of suicide because I know I will never be on an intimate level with her. Every conversation with her is just another way for her to help the time go by...nothing meaningful ever passes between us besides our glances. She means everything to me and nothing at all. She's beautiful and so conniving. Some days I hate her and other days I don't know what I would do without her if she wasn't backing me up at work. She is my boss and somewhat of a friend, but she will never know what she really is to me...a magnificent, beautiful monster of a woman. Try as I might to get her out of my head, but she is always in the corner of my every thought. What I wear is for her, my appetite has changed so as not to repulse her, even my hair is worn in ways to subtly attract her attention. How can she not know how much I...admire her!? She is a damn fool for not revealing this inner most fault and firing me a long time ago. She's just so damn blind if she can not see how attracted I am to her. I feel paranoid because I know that someone must have noticed by now that my feelings toward her are not just based on being shy and submissive while blindly following her whimsical orders. I know someone must be able to see that I am strangely devoted to her and constantly at her beck and call and although I do not kiss her ass, it is obvious at the way I glance at her that I want to kiss her hands, her feet, her lips. Some days she's just so damn beautiful to me that I can't stand the sight or smell of her and I have to rush to a bathroom stall and just sit there for several minutes, holding my stomach and my breath, trying to convince myself that...I don't need her, but that she needs me. Of course, not in the way that I want to feel needed, but only if for labor purposes, she needs me more than I will ever need her. I convince myself, that I am the young twenty-one year old with the strength, the stamina, and all the time in the world to waste to make sure the job is done right no matter how long it takes...8 hours or 16 hours in a workday. It doesn't matter, so long as I realize that she is the one that needs me, all those feelings of longing and desire are quickly replaced by panic and chaos as I dive into the work of the hotel.