It is as though she was a phantom watching from the shadows. This at least is how she 'writes' herself: as an absence on which others projected their desires and anxieties.
She could make excuses to keep the fantasy intact.
The only time she felt excited or happy was when she had had a drink because then anything might happen. That feeling of insecurity became exciting.
She gave him all the love she could not give herself. She loved him becasue he was the embodiment of those attributes she wanted for herself...
But nothing could touch her because there was nothing to touch.
In her writings, she despises her fellow man and woman for representing what she had lost.