Emily's Diary: Confessions of an Emotional Predator

By David Curtis

Up to this point in her young life Emily has been terribly disappointed in the myriad of men who have sought her favor. Because of this disappointment she has given up almost all hope of ever meeting a guy who can measure up to her idealized perception of the consummate man. Resigned to the prospect of a life devoid of love and romance Emily degenerates into a social piranha, preying on the weak-willed unchallenging men who fail to live up to her lofty imaginings. To this end she believes that she's mastered everything there is to know about the fine art of manipulation and control. Then she meets a guy who unwittingly manages to slip through her defenses and unlock the heavily bolted door to her heart. But who enters next through this now open door she never sees coming.

• Language: English
• Publisher: David Curtis
• Release date: Feb 16, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310523199

David Curtis

David Curtis is an author and professional dating/relationship coach for women and men. You can learn how to sign up for his professional dating/relationship coaching and read his latest dating articles at http://lovecoachadvice.com/ for women and http://datingcoachadvice.net/ for men.

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Emily’s Diary

Confessions of an Emotional Predator

By David Curtis

Copyright 2014 by David Curtis

First eBook Edition–October 2014

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission from the copyright holder, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any places, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. Names, characters, places, incidents, and story lines are either created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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Monday 4/4

Dear Diary,

I am 23 years old and I’m waiting for my life to begin. And I'm not talking about romance. Heaven forbid. No, in that regard I don't feel the need to love anyone. I only desire to be loved, and then only by those of my choosing.

Actually I've never had a problem getting men to fall in love with me. How do I do this? It's easy really. Usually one encounter is enough. I come on strong, get their attention, and flatter their ego. And then after they take the bait, I hurt them, I back off, I ignore them.

I act like we never had that encounter, that I never said those words. That's the exciting part, the seduction and then the denial, the rejection. That's when they fall in love, the moment I hurt them.

From then on I can crush them quickly or slowly depending on the challenge they present me. Some men crumble instantly like the petals of a rose kept pressed too long between the pages of a book. Others are more emotionally agile and will hold out a little longer. I like a challenge so I let them live awhile.

I give them hope that they may get the upper hand; that my walls will tumble down allowing them access to my heart and soul. The joy, the ecstasy, the anticipation they feel as they see the ice queen melt before their eyes. But alas, it's just an illusion. And in the end they crumble as well.

I squeeze them and squeeze them until I squeeze the last bit of life from them. Then I drop their emotional corpse by the side of the road.

Interestingly enough, as they lie there crushed and broken, their heart reeling in torment, they cry after me begging me to come back and squeeze them some more. Pathetic and yet funny really when you think about it.

Do I feel any guilt at the pain I've caused? No, why should I? Pain is love and love is pain and I am the harbinger of both.

Thursday 4/7

Dear Diary,

Today I made my move on Gregory. Gregory, who is this tall super cute guy from work, has been ogling me since the first day he saw me. I can feel him mentally pursuing me, stalking me, chasing his fantasy of me.

I just started this job a couple of months ago, and though we don't work side-by-side he and I have had visual contact in the break room and hallways and such. Several times during this period I've caught him staring at me.

I've seen the longing in his eyes, the longing to know me, to be close to me, to have me for his own. I of course paid absolutely no attention to him. I work on my own timetable. I like to let the tension build for awhile before I move in on my victim.

Today when I saw him ahead of me walking to the train I decided that the time had come. So I ran up behind him, grabbed his arm, and yelled BOO! You should have seen the expression on his face. How can I describe it, a combination of disbelief and ecstasy?

Did I scare you? I giggled, as I bounced around him like a giddy school girl.

Though he quickly shrouded his excitement, I could tell he was working frantically to get his brain and heart back on the same page. Here he failed miserably. The element of surprise is one of my greatest weapons.

We boarded the train and sat down together.

For the next several minutes he tried unsuccessfully to regain his composure and engage me in some intelligible conversation. I enjoyed watching him stumble and grope over his words, trying to impress me with his wit while fearing every second that he might lose me by saying the wrong thing.

A couple of times I purposely disagreed with him on some view he proposed and he quickly compromised his position. By the time we reached my station he didn't have an original thought in his head.

What I believed, he believed. My views were now his views. With every opinion he expressed he searched my face for confirmation. Even my slightest frown forever exiled that idea from his head. I owned him.

As I was leaving the train I agreed to meet him tomorrow for lunch knowing full well that I won't be there.

Friday 4/8

Dear Diary,

It gives me malevolent satisfaction envisioning Gregory as he sits in the cafeteria anxiously awaiting my arrival. He would have been thinking of me nearly every waking moment since our train encounter yesterday, carefully planning his strategy and diligently rehearsing his clever retorts.

He knows that he lost round one and would be looking forward to our meeting today as a chance to get back on even ground. Of course I didn't give him that chance.

Last night I called my friend Amy and we made plans for lunch at Water Tower Place. I hadn't seen her for awhile and this was a good excuse to get together. And not coincidentally it fit perfectly into my plans for Gregory, as did her offer of a ride home after work. I avoided the break room all day and after work I left by way of the rear entrance.

Gregory in the meanwhile would by now be worrying ardently about my health and well-being. What else could explain my mysterious absence? Our office space spans several floors of the John Hancock Building so tracking me down would be near impossible.

After work he would rush out to the elevator feverishly awaiting its arrival. Downstairs he stands by the door that he knows I always leave by. He may even ask passing co-workers of mine if they had seen me today. When they answer in the affirmative he will feel alternately hurt and perplexed.

What could have gone wrong he will wonder. Maybe there was a misunderstanding. Maybe somehow we missed connections or something unexpected had happened and I didn't know how to reach him. Perhaps it was somehow his fault the date had failed to ensue.

As he walks alone to the train after waiting well past the time I normally leave, he longs to see me, to talk to me, to clear up this mystery that is eating at his heart. But it's Friday and he won't see me again until Monday. Oh what a long, dreadfully painful weekend awaits him. God, why do I love it so?

Monday 4/11

Dear Diary,

It feels so good to be home from work. And as I sit here now in my big red chair, staring out the window of my 2nd story perch above the corner of Belmont and Clark, I can't help but savor it even more. Watching the frenzied activity below helps me to relax and clear my mind of all the stress that comes with day-to-day living.

I adore the city. I enjoy being in the middle of the chaos that rages about me. If I begin to feel alone or depressed just one glance out the window or a short walk to the store chases those feelings right out the door. The city is my therapist. The city is my priest. The city is my lover.

As for today, I can safely say that at this moment Gregory is not sure whether he's in Heaven or Hell. As his heart feels the warmth of what it thinks is love, his brain can see that this warmth is in reality the first flames of the hell fire about to engulf him. His brain is desperately trying to relay this information to his heart, but of course his heart has the phone off the hook.

This morning I had just sat down with my first cup of coffee when Gregory walked into the break room. Though he looked slightly haggard, he had an almost feverish spark in his eye as he anxiously scanned the room.

I pretended not to notice him as he made his way towards me. He was telling himself to mask his fervor, but as soon as I turned and smiled his face instantly betrayed him.

He smiled back and asked me how I was and how my weekend had gone. I answered him back with short unenthusiastic responses. Then after an uneasy period of silence he asked the question that was burning in his heart.

WHAT HAPPENED ON FRIDAY? The words shot out of him like air out of an overinflated balloon.

Friday? I responded with a questioning innocence.

YES FRIDAY, he bellowed much more forcibly. Didn't we agree to meet for lunch in the cafeteria at 12:30?

Oh, I said as I struggled to recall the details of our conversation on the matter. Was it that definite? I thought it was only tentative. I'm sorry.

After taking a moment to gauge Gregory's reaction I continued by telling him that I had talked to my poor friend Amy on Thursday night and that she had some things she needed help working out. So I had agreed to have lunch with her on Friday.

I'm sorry, I repeated as I reached out and gently touched his hand. "I