My obsession

I was obsessed with him.

He was in my blood, my skin, my mind and my breath.

I spent every minute thinking about him.

I couldn't think straight.

He occupied me fully. My life was on a standstill for him.

I was obsessed.

I remember showing a friend his picture which she looked at for a long time. Her answer was simple " What did you see in him?". I didn't answer. There was no use. He was in my skin not hers.

I lived for him. Even when he ignored me intentionally. I followed him everywhere; online and offline. I knew what he was doing all the time. I was obsessed.

I don't think he gave me much thought. In any case he called me by name and only when necessary. I don't remember anything special that transpired between us. But he never left my skin.

I was waiting for him at this building basement parking as I had arrived 30 minutes early. As usual he would come 30 minutes late. I had an hour to read my book.

I turned my face about an hour and a quarter later to see him drive through and park. He stepped out of the car. My heart started racing, the building must have been shaking. I thought I was going to faint. I was obsessed.

Just as I was about to step out of the car he did something I thought obnoxious. He cleared his throat and spat out in that parking lot. He did it twice.

My heart stopped racing. I could hear my thoughts. I slide down my seat and studied him as he walked towards the lifts. Who was he? Where did I meet him? What in God's name was I thinking?

I let a few minutes pass then drove off. How did I get to waiting for an hour for a person who spits mannerlessly in a parking lot?

He was out of my skin. I no longer have an obsession.