Every thought of mine coils around her like a shadow I can’t shake, an ache that pulses beneath my skin. I imagine her in ways no one should—her presence a magnet that drags me into quiet, obsessive reveries where she exists only for me. I trace the paths she might walk in my mind, memorizing the cadence of her imagined footsteps, the tilt of her head, the subtle curve of her smile that belongs to no one else but me. Sleep is no relief; even in dreams, I can’t let her go. I watch, I wait, I feel the hunger that grows in the silence, a twisted devotion that tightens its grip on me. Every corner of my mind is hers, and every pulse of my heart screams a possessiveness I cannot—will not—control. The world fades around me; she is all I see, all I crave, all I desire, and I would do anything, endure anything, to make her mine, eternally, completely, in a way that terrifies and consumes me.