Freckled White Flesh

I spent all my free time imagining what life could be like. I loved pushing myself to the point of exhaustion, trying to quench my thirst for a seemingly unreachable desire. I consumed every detail of him, yearning just for eye contact, I was stalker-like, watching him controlled my every move and direction.

Admiration of the beauty is captured in my thick diaries full of poetry and my desire exists in every whiny rock star who sings about the only person who ever truly loved him.

I passionately want to trap him in my arms and wrap myself around him forever. A pang of infatuation made me willing to face death in exchange for a mere minute of time with him. If I could find a magic lamp and believe me, I've searched, my only wish would be for him to love me.

He seems pure and untouched, and it makes me want to poke and pinch his freckled white flesh. I draw, trace, paint, and memorize every contour and curvation, terrified that I'd somehow forget. So much adrenaline coursed through my veins that I felt like a recently freed animal, sprinting through the jungle for the first time.

He was illuminated like an angel and his eyes radiated like a treasure chest overflowing with precious jewels. Each time he walked past me, he left trails of burning fire behind him. To me, he was like a god with a powerful force, that drove me toward him like a magnet.

What if's cluttered my mind, which made it impossible to concentrate on anything. Every other person in my life felt cheap, as if for all these years I'd been tricked into believing my life was worth something. I see it as nothing now, except an empty space that is waiting to be filled. Without him, life is a waste of time.

I wish I could purchase him, as I would a pair of flashy designer jeans. Often I wonder if anyone could ever be as infatuated or so seemingly obsessed with him, as I was. I wondered if he followed me around, hiding around corners and taking snapshots like me, because I would like that, I hope he does.

I cross my fingers each night and pray for hours sometimes, wishing so hard for him to appear sprawled out on my bed. Each superstition and horoscope I never before believed in, I now furiously researched, hoping to find the connection that would tie us both together forever.

I envy those who are lucky enough to share time with him, even the seconds. When I was looking through the bushes one night, outside the local cafe, I noticed a girl with him. She was upset and yelling at him, and it immediately filled my heart with rage. How could anyone waste time being around a perfect person like him?

Everyone had become rocks and boulders, blocking my way of reaching him. Still, I would fight off the blood suckers and the thieves and I'd do anything for him. All the good rationality I had known, I let fall to the ground, leaving me completely disarmed and naked. I sat watching him about to make my move.