.
I’m not in love with her……no, it’s beyond that. I’m haunted. Possessed. Every time she looks at me, it feels like the Earth has tilted just slightly off-axis, like gravity itself is trying to pull me closer to her. She’s not just in my thoughts……..she’s the architecture of them. I don’t dream anymore.
I rerun conversations we never had. I replay things she said like they’re sacred, even when they’re mundane. She could say, “pass the water,” and I’d write a thesis on how she asked it. It’s ridiculous. I know it’s ridiculous. But that doesn’t stop it. Her name has turned into a password that unlocks every irrational impulse I have. I see a pair of earrings and wonder if she’d like them. I pass a street mural and imagine her standing in front of it, owning the entire sidewalk.
She doesn’t ask to live in my head……she conquered it. Unapologetically. And I let her, smiling like an idiot while she rearranged my logic to suit her mood.
I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve tried to shake it off. To breathe normally. To act indifferent. But all it takes is one glance, one word, one slightly amused smirk—and I’m back at square one, ruined, rewired, and re-addicted. She’s not a habit. She’s a phenomenon. And honestly? I don’t want a cure.
“She didn’t ruin me—she redesigned me. And I loved every second of the demolition.”
