"No one knows what it's like to be the bad man... To be the sad man... Behind blue eyes."

My favorite song. It's about me. Oh, I feel sure The Who would argue that point. I'm not just bad. I'm evil. And yet, I am just like everyone else.

I have feelings. I bleed when I am wounded. I feel the heights of ecstasy and the abyss of despair. There are things I like and things I don't like. It's the things I like that get me in trouble.

I am your friend, your cousin, your neighbor, your civic leader, your brother. You laugh at my jokes. We pray together. We cheer on the team together and high five each other when they win. I am witty, fun-loving, and cheerful. I take flowers to the elderly. I sit by your side in the hospital awaiting news of your spouse's fate.

But behind my good deeds and my handsome face lies a dark secret. It is a curse from which I have found no escape. It is the curse of love.

Some men fall victim to alcoholism, some to gluttony, some to lust, some to self-righteousness. They're all the same. It's just which poison you choose. Mine is a dark poison indeed.

My poison is lust, with a twist. I sometimes convince myself that it's really love, but in my heart of hearts I know the truth. I have tried to break the curse. I have read countless books, studied all manners of self-help literature, and prayed to God until my knees ached. But what good was it? I'm still cursed.

I am caught in a web I didn't spin. The curse consumes me, bit by tasty bit, as it twists me into the prison of its cocoon. I cannot evade my fate. But perhaps I can delay it by offering another sacrifice.

"Come here, little girl. Want some candy? Come sit on Uncle Bob's lap."

The curse of pedophilia winds me tighter. I am damned.