When will this torture end?

Today I passed her for the third time on the road. Each time, I feel like a carrot has been dangled in front of me and then snatched away. I want some contact from her, either to know that there is a part deep down that is capable of genuine, heartfelt compassion, or that she is incapable of that and then I'd know for sure. She is a mystery to me, both fascinating and horrifying at the same time.

I feel that God will someday answer my prayer, but these brief seconds keep me in agony, both feeding my desire to see her, and crushing my hopes that it will happen that day all at once.

It is such torture to not even have a face for the woman who tried to ruin my life. The woman who made love to my husband is a phantom in my mind: a complete stranger that sometimes I picture as a jezebel with horns, other times a bratty, self-centered spoiled child, and even other times, a hurt and wounded soul, desperate for one person to genuinely care for it.

Which is the real one? Is any even close?

God, I am begging you to grant me some relief from this torture.