Obsession

I try to pride myself on being a controlled person. I mean, yes, I lose my temper from time to time, and I don't have a will of iron, but I feel that, at least, I can be proud of being rather vice-less. I know that I've had problems with the girls, but I try to keep that under control, and other temptations are strangely powerless. I don't say this to brag, but I mean it as a comment on how I try to keep my head and heart to myself, and not invest myself too deeply into anything.

My first, and, at least for now, only obsession is, however, highly creepy. 'Creepy' is not my word for it, but rather a word suggested by a disenchanted ex-friend. And, quite possibly, it is the true word to describe it. All of this circles around a girl, a girl who I have never met, and never will. Some of you may remember how this story winds, and these may bow out. Anyway... she floored me, completely and utterly,

I guess the problem is the fact that I still am floored, and I showed no real sign of getting up until recently. And that's where my troubles lie. If I can so easily be brought under her spell, (regardless of how happy it makes me), it makes me wonder how little it would take for me to fall under that same spell. And no matter how amazing this girl is, if, for no other reason, I'm afraid that I would fight back, and would ultimately hurt her, if no one else...

But perhaps I should start at the beginning. That's where stories usually start, right? It was the winter of '07. I had nothing to do, so I logged into that crazy 3D text messaging site, IMVU, to see if any of my mates were on. Instead, I found something much more...

Her screen name was Astrimazing, and we talked for a while, I added her as a buddy, she added me, it was mutual. After our conversation that night, I wasn't instantly enamored, or anything. I just thought of her as an interesting new acquaintance. Not even a new friend really. Just someone new to talk to.

Over the next few weeks, that changed. She became a good friend, and I talked to her more and more frequently. Then something changed, and we exchanged Myspace addresses, pictures, and our first romantic words. Soon after this, I realized, or, possibly, admitted to myself, that I cared deeply for this girl, this amazingly human girl.

I remember a few early weeks into our awkward 'courtship', if you wish to call it that, I instituted these stupid, stupid nicknames, sending her a letter, addressed to 'Leopard', and signed 'Koala.' I don't even know why. It was just one of those stupid, supposedly-romantically idiotic things I seem to be so good at. But the weird thing was, is that she didn't think it was weird. Or, if she did, like everyone else I knew, she didn't comment on it, and I'm glad. At that stage, I honestly don't know if I could have handled it. Also, it was then that I started realizing how deeply I cared for her.



A while after that, I started calling her 'Seraphim', for a variety of reasons, including a bizarre hallucination I experienced. But, romantics aside, I think it was for two major reasons.

- Number One. She'd had issues, that I won't recount on these pages, in her life that most people I know would be crippled by, put lightly. But if they had affected her, it had been for the better. She wanted no pity, and, to be completely honest, deserved none. She was an amazing girl, and there was nothing pitiful about her, except her taste in long-distance love interests. She'd had her problems, she'd moved on.

- Number Two. She knew about my problems, (my compulsive lying, and my, at times, overwhelming fear of my own death,) that quite frequently conflicted with my leviathanic hero complex, and rendered me an almost useless human being on occasion. She knew about all this, but she didn't hold it against me at any time, even when I tried to Titanic our blossoming relationship over a half-baked vision, caused by my thanatophobia.

I cannot personally say either of these things about myself, or to any other person I have known to any depth, up until now. To the first, my own vices still plague me, as I have demonstrated at least twice, and I still find myself constantly exaggerating, telling little white lies, manipulating the truth, etc. At the same time, I find myself worrying about everything and anything, from choking to death on my waffles in the morning, to drowning myself in a glass of milk, to getting hit by a train, to being struck by lightning. As for the second, I did have certain thoughts about things she told me, that in my own defense, I tried to keep to myself.

Anyway, eventually, our romance wilted, for various reasons, collapsed, and we moved on. Or, at least she did. For awhile, I thought I had as well. We're still friends, which I care deeply about, which is a lot better result then I could foresee in many other ways. Our romance could have faded the way it did, or it cold have been sabotaged, probably by me. I could have lied a hole into it too large to patch, or simply torpedoed it (again) with my paranoia.

She found someone else, which makes me glad, but I think it was that which triggered the seat of my problem. One more of my faults is that I am an extremely manipulative/possessive person. I connive to get what I want, and I connive hard. When I was younger, I was good at setting my parents against one another to get what I wanted. When I wanted gum from the store, ('gum' was a three letter word equivalent to some four letter words in our house, because of the mess it caused,) I resorted to shoplifting, and stealing small change from my parents. I once also stole a pocketknife, and told outrageous stories to get out of the trouble resorting from taking said knife to my elementary school.

So, losing something that was so precious to another guy was, well, it bugged me a little. Partially because I was still stinging a little from breakup burn, and partially because I felt that if she started dating someone else, at very least, I wouldn't talk to her as much, at worst, we wouldn't talk, at all. However, I tried not to influence her too much.



No, that's a lie. At first, I tried to make her feel guilty about it, to my shame. Then I tried to forget about her. That started a string of slightly ill-advised relationships with girls I cared about, but had no real romantic interest in...which eventually earned me the dubious honor of the title 'player', and a slut's reputation and quarantine status.

And now I've found a girl I truly care for, and I don't want to hurt her. But I still care about that girl far away, and I-

No, Lie. I don't care about her so much as obsess over her. It has gone from somewhat normal things; 'I hope she's doing okay, I wonder if we'll talk,' to the slightly disturbing; 'I wonder what she's doing right now, I hope we'll talk,' to the downright creepy; 'I wonder what she's thinking right now, I'm going to die if we don't talk extremely soon.' I've actually kissed another girl, and, mid-kiss, thought about if she's kissing her new love.

You see my point? I'm scared to find out how deeply this goes, because I'm starting to wonder if maybe, the same gene that inflicted Norman Bates, the slasher of Psycho fame, and Jack the Ripper, the Terror of London. Or perhaps I don't go as far, I merely become so obsessed with someone that I can think of nothing else, and will eventually become over-whelmed with my desire. I'm worried that one day I will wake up, and won't think about anything else, I'll just go on some insane mission...and never stop...