Love Me Crazy

30. Interspersion Of Love And Obsession

Authors note: I decided to not make you all wait one bit. Let's just get on with it! I'd just like to say though…for any of you who started with me from the beginning and decided to stay with me through all the drama and depression, for all of you who were here from the start…drifted…and then decided to come back for the ending, and for all of you who came near the end but loved the journey anyhow…THANK YOU! I know I wasn't able to reply to all of my reviewers but I just want to say…I love you and appreciate all of you. You kept me going through tough times and great times. I'm serious. Your reviews brightened my darkening days. For that, I am completely grateful. This is the final chapter of the Obsession of Love. I can't believe I actually made it. Wow…well…I'm not going to stop the inevitable. Please…enjoy.

Christmas of '99…that's the year I got the best present ever.

A chair.

Don't laugh.

It was the best thing.

I had needed—wanted a chair for awhile. My parents…who were still together at the time…bought me a mahogany, oil polished desk for our new home in Colorado. We lived there for only two months. But I didn't care. My desk fit perfectly into a cove in my room. The place was all my own.

However, in the process of their worsening relationship, they forget to buy me a chair.

Ugh…it was tragedy.

I had to wait so long for them to even realize I was in need of a sitting arrangement. Well…when Christmas finally came around, my prayers were answered. In the back of the tree there was this crudely wrapped object. I broadly grinned. I knew it was my chair.

I ripped open the package. Oh, the beauty that was before me. It was the exact match to my desk.

After screaming my thank-you's to my parents, I decided this chair would be mine. No one would sit in it, stand it in it—heck, no one would even touch it. No one would talk about, look at it…they couldn't even think about it. It was mine…all mine. I had never had anything so precious and meaningful. I had never had anything that made me so rich and fulfilled inside. I wanted it forever. This once…I wanted something for me.

Without me, the chair would be nothing. It needed me.

One day, when I came home from school, I saw my mother packing away our belongings. I sighed, realizing we would be moving for the third time in my life span. I went to my room, thinking of how I would repack my Barbie's.

When I walked into my room…the chair…my mahogany, oil polished chair…was gone.

I raced out of the room and outside to my mother. I yanked at her pants, tears streaming down my face.

"Mommy, mommy, where is my chair?!" I cried.

She simply said that she had given it away. She said it wasn't going to "fit in" our new apartment. I cried some more. She told me to stop.

That night, she divorced my dad.

I'll never forget that chair. I'll never forget the feeling it gave me while I had it and then the feeling that lingered when it went away.

For awhile, I had thought I loved it. I thought I loved it with all my heart and that my adoration for it was pure.

However, now, as I look back, I know I never loved that chair. For only three days after my mother gave it away, I was gifted a new chair. And though I remembered the mahogany furnishing, I moved on easily without it.