Aphrodite

5

I'm infatuated.

It's a textbook disease, a common psychological roadblock.

It's nothing to worry about

Except when you're around

And blood boils beneath my cheeks.

I hate infatuation.

It's all risk and no reward.

The better it feels, the more disgusting it is.

I want to throw up as soon as I come off the high,

Descend from the climax that is the very thought of you.

I hate fantasizing about things that aren't possible.

You have a life of your own, a life that I envy.

I shouldn't infringe upon it.

You say I couldn't and give me oblivious, reassuring advice,

That I shouldn't doubt myself,

But I don't believe you.

I will always have this overwhelming doubt.

It's the price of infatuation.

If I fulfilled these swooning dreams

My heart would explode, or, worse, fade away.

If you were to take me in, make a home of me,

You would grow to hate that home and burn it,

Selling the ashes to someone new, better, more capable.

I've heard stories and poems, songs and scriptures.

I should know better than to fall to this, to cast all knowledge to the wind

Without reservation, without fear.

I've become numb to the idea of danger.

Worse, I don't care that I have.

I live in a toxic and uncertain realm,

But I can't even try living outside of it.

You pull me in so tightly,

Squeeze the love from my heart

And your name from my mouth.

You pour out my soul and fill it up again with you.

I am overcome with the power of your voice, your face, your hands, your teeth.

Every molecule of you, every inch, every freckle and dimple in your skin is sublime.

There I go again.

What is love?

It couldn't be this.

No, this is infatuation.

Mere infatuation.

Stupid infatuation.

Painful infatuation.

Reckless, thrilling, wild, gross, adoring infatuation.

I'll tell myself that until the day comes that I stop obsessing over you.

But every day passes and there you are,

Part of me, forever.

Forever is a long time,

But not as long as I have craved you.

Do you know that you're the love of my life?

Are you aware of the way my eyes sparkle, or are you blind with the glistening of your own?

Do you take note of my nervous laughter, my stumbling over words?

Or are you just not as infatuated as I?

I need you.

I may not be yours yet, but you are my companion, my wonder,

My love.

If only you noticed me the way I notice you.