Third-person ftw

She lays in bed, not yet trying to sleep. He's 200 miles and 9 months away but in her mind he's right beside her. Holding her. Whispering to her. Running his fingers over her skin, pausing only for--

She'll never have it back, but right now, it almost feels real.

Her phone beeps, receiving a text. Jolted out of her reverie, she says his name out loud, expectantly. You know, a Jane Eyre moment - she was thinking about him so hard he felt it and reached out to her.

Of course it's not him. She's disappointed that it's not a supernatural cupid, but how could it be? For the most part she subscribes to the idea of "the one," and she never felt it with him. Their love was quite good--amazing, even--but it wasn't supernatural. Divine.

She rolls to her side and he wraps his arms around her, intertwines his legs with hers, breathes "I love you" into her neck. --Her ability to pretend play died at puberty - where did this burst of imagination come from?

Alone, she turns off her lamp and attempts to sleep. 200 miles away, he has no idea that she aches for him; that she loves him still.

Wondering

Is there a point at which an obsessive feeling lasts long enough that the feeling must be legitimate? I feel like mere obsessions burn out pretty quickly.

a little bit possessive, little miss obsessive, can't get over it

On a related note: I have a facebook status all planned out for May 30. However, that's the day after we move, so A) we probably won't have internet access and B) I will probably be too busy to remember to get worked up enough to post it. what to dooooo! ;)

Unrealistic

I build myself up a box of fantasy, shutting out my instincts, shutting out common sense, shutting out advice from those who love me. I crawl in and shut the lid tightly and remain there in bliss for as long as I can. Completely delusional. Eventually reality creeps in and I wonder how I ever believed the lies I told myself, because now their falseness is obvious.

But I don't know how to pop the bubble. I can tell when I bury a thought that I'm building up the walls, but I like it. The box is a very comforting place for me. I can't stop.

I guess the best I can do is not drag anyone else in there with me. Breaking my own heart is nothing new. But I can't invite someone else to my fantasy...

And I feel like, "it's not that my instincts are saying 'no' and I'm ignoring it. It's that I can't tell WHAT my instincts are saying." But they said "no" for months and months and months. Why should something have changed? (Rhetorical question. I have all sorts of justification-type answers, of course.) And I don't know how to break down the walls to get a clear reading.

I just get so obsessive.
I always have.

love love love love love

but

surely not?