Somewhere in the world right now there is a girl.
She is sitting on her lit crying because her boyfriend told her she couldn't see her good friend. He erased her e-mail from her contacts, he keeps them apart in school hallways and classes and he took her drivers liscence so she can't drive to her house. Her boyfriend is always with her. They are barely seen apart if they can be together, often alone. He decides where she goes and the only compliments he ever tells her is "your beautiful", "you're a clutz".
To write Twilight, to pass that (above) off as l’amour is unfair to that one girl who is sitting on her bed, crying.