New story everyone. Hope you like it.

I don't own any WWE Superstars or Divas, just the imagination that takes place in my creative world.

Normally I would never share my personal life with anyone, and I do mean ANYONE: Not my co-workers, not my mom, hell not even with my priest at my favorite church where I always went to when I was a little girl. But I feel as though I need to get myself out in the open in a way. If you want to judge me fine, I've heard worse, but if you are willing to listen and hear me out, just get ready to hear my story and its of something that you will ever hear about my life and what I've faced.

First off, My name is Luna Devereux. I am 26 years old, 5'2, medium length brown hair, midnight blue eyes, a curvy figure with a round stomach when I sit down, along with thick thighs, light mocha skin and I am African-American mixed with Korean. I was told I was pretty by some men but I could never believe it, especially if they knew my secret, they would look at me in horror in disgust, just like back in high school.

My secret was that I was suffering from psoriasis. It's a skin disorder that was basically covering my back and down to the back of my thighs. I hated myself and I hated the fact that I grew up with this disease. It made me feel sick to my stomach. Hell, my own husband doesn't even want to touch me anymore or find me beautiful. He would always look at other girls and flirt with them, right in front of my face. I loved him so much but I was sick of him always making me feel ugly. I wanted to leave him and be done with him, but I also felt like if I did, no other man would want me and I would forever be left alone. I already had a feeling that my husband was having an affair and I couldn't blame him. He deserved better..better than me anyway.

So I was in denial, pretending that everything was ok and that nothing was wrong with me or my marriage. I would go to work and then come home and cook his meals. I would clean up but we would never have sex when we went to sleep at night. I stopped buying lingerie for him because I knew he would make fun of me and possibly look at me with disdain. He stopped holding me, kissing me, coming home late, as I already found lipstick on his collar. But still, in my mind, everything was good and that everything was great between us.

Everything was still the same for the past couple of weeks, no sex whatsoever and with my husband just simply doing well..him. I had come home from doing overtime at work and I was exhausted. I wanted to talk to Trevor, my husband and see if we could work this out. But as I opened the key to the door of my house, I turned on the light and everything of his was gone. He cleaned out everything of his. I went upstairs to our bedroom and just like downstairs, everything was gone as well. I saw that he left a note on the bed. As I opened it, my heart shattered like well made glass.

Luna,

Things aren't working out. I don't want anything else to do with you anymore and quite frankly,

You disgust me and I no longer find you attractive to my wants and needs.

I have other women now to take care of that.

Not only that, I'm expecting to be a father soon with my secretary carrying my child,

something you of course could never give me.

So the divorce papers will be sent to you in about the next month. Goodbye and don't call me or text me anymore.

I honestly couldn't believe it. Trevor never wanted to have kids but for him to get someone else pregnant during the course of our marriage..I felt so stupid. I fell on the hardwood floor, on my knees and started crying tears of a waterfall.

A Month Later

I haven't been out of the house in a month. I would shower and go to work just so i could still support myself but that was it. I isolated myself from my family and friends and anyone else who knew me. My depression was quickly taking over me and it was a disease that had no treatment of like the flu or the common cold. I missed Trevor: His cologne and the way he would sing off-key while he was in the shower. I missed all of it. Despite how he would treat me, I hated sleeping alone. But the only thing I didn't miss was the sex. I honestly hated sex. Raised up in a catholic school, I was told sex was evil, vile, and that I would surely burn in hell for it, even if I was to do it with someone I was married too.

I wasn't a virgin but sex was a bit rushed for me, especially when I lost it at the age of 15. It was horrible. The guy just stuck it in and then started pumping away, not to mention his kissing was way off base and I truly hated how he smelt of garlic. I mean for Christ's Sakes was he making out with a vampire or something?

Anyway, I honestly couldn't understand sex and not only that, I was really too shy to tell guys what I wanted in the bedroom. I was always afraid that if I told them, they would look at me as if I was that weird kid in the back of the classroom, picking his nose.

I wouldn't want anything that had anything to do with sex. It was as if I was a virgin all over again. If I even thought about sex, I would just do certain hobbies to take my mind off of it. Besides, my depression was eating away at me. When I would come home late at night, I would lay in bed and cry myself to sleep until the sun started to rise for another day.

All my friends tried to call me and my mom was really worried about me but I would never talk to them. I would even overeat, not caring if I was going to gain more and more weight, even though I had a high metabolism so it wouldn't stick for long, but only just on my thighs and on my tummy.

Then as the weeks have gone by with me crying and thinking about Trevor and with how I looked, I decided that I should really just off myself. I mean, I've had thoughts about it for awhile and no other man would really accept my flaws anyway, so what was the point of even continuing to go on with this shitty life?

Hell, I was even sent home a few times from work because I've had one two many times of a nervous breakdown. Then my boss called me and said that I should go speak with a therapist. I was very skeptical, believing that this so-called therapist would probably try to make me take pills and then he would want his paycheck at the end of the day, but I did need someone to talk to and since most of my friends were pretty much busy with their own lives, I couldn't burden them with my problems. So my boss, Ms. Camilla told me the information of the therapist and that I would go see him for the next couple of months, just so I could mentally get myself back on track. My thoughts of suicide were still on the linger but Ms. Camilla was fair and she cared about me and my well-being so I knew she was just trying to help me in away way she could.

I wrote down the information and then I told her I would go on Monday next week. We finished talking for a bit and then she hung up. I still held the letter of Trevor's words in my hand and I choked back on my sobs. I tossed the letter aside and I simply decided to just watch some TV to take my mind off all my stress and my pain.

Monday: 10am

My appointment with my therapist was at 10:30 so I had to force myself to get dressed and get ready for another day in this life. I showered and I slipped on a black turtleneck with my black skinny jeans and my low black pump heels. I styled my hair up in a bun and I added some light makeup. I had the day off from work as well so all my time would be with the therapist. My back was itching a little but that was because I had put on a lot of medicated creams and I put on as much makeup as I could to cover the marks. I may be covered but in my state of mind, it felt like everyone was watching so I wanted to cover myself as much as possible. I locked up the door and then I headed to my car, ready to get this session over with.

20 minutes later

I was sitting in the waiting room, tapping my foot a bit impatiently. The secretary told me that the therapist would come in 10 minutes. God how much longer does she have to be for me to wait this long in this stuffy ass room?

Just then the door opened and there stood a man in his black suit and he looked at me with those dark brown eyes. He gave me a warm smile as he shook my hand.

"Hello. You must be Ms. Devereux." He said in a bit of a raspy voice. I was very surprised. He was far from an old man and not at all grungy looking, if that's even a word, and he was surely very handsome. Hell, sexy for the matter. His hair was two toned of black and blonde and it was pulled back into a low ponytail, held by the elastic rubber band.

"Yes. Yes I am." I told him shyly, shaking his hand firmly.

"My name is Mr. Seth Rollins. I'm your therapist." He said as he formed a beautiful smile. "If you could just grab your purse, we can come in and the session will start."

I nod slowly as I grabbed my purse and then we walked down the hall and then we headed into his office. There was a couch there and his desk and chair were across from it. He closed the door and then I sat down on the sofa, playing with my fingers and biting my lip, trying not to look at him too much in awe. I mean the guy looks like he could model for freaking Calvin Klein!

"Do you want a glass of water?" He asked me nicely. I shook my head no, giving him a polite smile.

"No thanks. I think I'll be ok without it." I told him, trying to relax. He saw how nervous I was and smiled at me. Man, that smile will be a photographic memory lodged into my brain.

He sat down and grabbed his book and pen and he slipped on his glasses.

"So why don't you tell me about yourself?" He asked, looking at me.

I wasn't sure where to begin..Hell, was there even a beginning at all?

"It's a lot to tell you." I chuckled nervously. He just smiled at me and looked at me.

"Take your time sweetheart." He said. I immediately felt a blush creeping up on me when he said sweetheart from that sexy voice of his. I took a deep breath and looked at him.

"Ok..I'm ready to tell you.." I told him.