Infatuation

Dropping into infatuation is the epitome of ecstasy. The falling never stops with wings of ignorance and fantasy. The sweet honey air flows quickly into the past. The perfumed flowers cling gently to flesh, but are stripped harshly by winds of knowledge and exploration. Gradually the wings crack and break and fall into the dark below. There's no more happiness, but the falling continues. There is no light or even a gleaming gem of hope or a cloud to catch. There is no more until it starts again.

My infatuation (also known as a crush) with a cute girl at work led me to drive to town yesterday to a movie that I did not wish to see. I drove for half an hour, to see this movie, even though I had scratched one eye with a piece of flying sawdust earlier that day, and could not see properly. But I went, and I saw, and I endured the mall, and even sort of enjoyed the film. Then I drove home. The sad part? I was not going to the movie WITH this girl, only because she was also going to a movie. And I arrived 20 minutes late, and failed to see her. Oh well... infatuations are meant to be enjoyed in this way.

I remember a t-shirt with »supposed former infatuation junkie« written on it
It is an album title of Alanis Morissette

I can not breath, sleep or live for thoughts of youswirl relentlessly in my head.