Here's what he doesn't know yet.
I disappear into the person l love.
I am the permeable membrane.
If l love you, you can have it all.
My money, my time, my body...
...my dog, my dog's money.
I will assume your debts
and project upon you...
...all sorts of nifty qualities you've
never actually cultivated in yourself.
I will give you all this and more...
...until l am so exhausted
...the only way l can recover...
...is by becoming infatuated
with someone else.
It begins when
the object of your affection bestows upon you
a heady hallucinogenic dose of something you've never
even dared to admit you wanted.
An emotional speedball
of thunderous love and excitement.
Soon you start craving that attention
with the hungry obsession of any junkie.
When it's withheld, you turn sick, crazy,
not to mention resentful of the dealer who encouraged
this addiction in the first place.
Goddamn him, and he used to give it to you for free.
Next stage finds you skinny, shaking in a corner...
...certain only that you'd sell your soul...
just to have that one thing one more time.
Meanwhile, the object of your adoration is now repulsed by you.
He looks at you like someone he's never met before.
The irony is you can hardly blame him.
I mean, check yourself out. You're a mess.
Unrecognizable. Even to your own eyes.
You have now reached infatuation's final destination.
The complete and merciless devaluation of self.
This is who i am. :)