Longing and desire are strange things. They are such beautiful and devastating emotions; ones that dive into the depths of your mind and heart bringing out truths sometimes you’d rather not see about yourself. They’re powerful and addictive and can be dangerous if not kept in check. I try to keep mine at bay because I can feel the overwhelming urge to let these consume my whole being. I feel them swirling in my veins invading all my senses. I feel my mind becoming hostage to the things I crave but cannot have. Longing and desire aren’t bad in all cases, but in mine they’re leading to an obsession that I feel is threatening to ruin me in such a delicious way.

It started as longing for a partner. I feel lonely; I have for a long time. And while I’ve gotten in my own way a few times and settled for less than what I should have, I have always had a strong sense of what I deserve in a partner. At times I have bent on this, but no more. The only problem with that is that no one knows when finding their lifelong partner will happen, and I’ve grown tired of waiting. My life up to this point has been filled with me chasing after others, seeking their feelings and time trying desperately to convince them to like me back. No one ever came up to me first claiming feelings for me, so I tried to be brave and initiate first.

One person told me they liked me back, only to then laugh and confess they had feelings for one of my friends as if I’d get the joke and feel less humiliated by the gesture and confession. Another, I convinced to be my first kiss as I was getting too old to not have had it in my opinion. They later told me they loved me, and we dated for a couple of years – just long enough for them to destroy my self-esteem, telling me they were too high the whole relationship to really remember anything, and to try to guilt trip me on their way out after I told them I’d had enough. The best thing I got from that relationship was my voice back; the worst was the realization that I don’t really know what that kind of love I deserve feels like after all. The handful of people left that I confessed my feelings for let the conversation, and whatever relationship we did have, wither away in an awkward mess.

I have trust issues from these things and more, and I feel that I have never been truly seen or understood. I feel that I have never been truly loved. But I long for it.

I long for the person who smiles when they see my name pop up on their phone. I dream of someone to come home to, who will meet me at the door after a long day and wrap me in their arms and hold me close. I see in my mind someone who will pull me close every chance they get just so we are always touching because we both crave that closeness. I wait for the person who will be protective of me in public, always needing their hand in mine or their arm around me as they eye anyone down they think might look at me with desire because though they’d never admit it freely, they are the jealous type.

I desire a person to look at me when I’m not paying attention as if I’m the most precious thing in the world to them. I want to make someone’s life better just by being around them, and I want to have someone who puts a dumb smile on my face when I think about them.

My heart yearns for you, whoever you are. I feel it now; like a million tendrils of my soul reaching out from my body in different directions in search of the one reaching out for me too. I love you, whoever you are. I so strongly feel the love I have for the person I’m meant to be with, and one day it will be something beautiful and strong and true, but for now it feels overwhelming.

I’m drowning in the desire to have someone’s hair to run my hands through, and eyes that bore into my body conveying all their desire for me. I am lovesick for the moments of time alone when one of us can come up behind the other and wrap our arms around the other’s waist, chest to back, just drinking in the warmth and scent of each other we love so much. I want to feel somebody pull closer to me in the middle of the night because we drifted too far apart in sleep. I need to feel someone grab me and pull me into a deep kiss that lasts hours because they couldn’t keep themselves away any longer.

I hunger for dates that run later than either of us were expecting and midnight conversations about all the deep, personal topics not meant for the light of day. I crave the intimacy of sharing a blanket for movie night or sending each other terribly distracting messages throughout the day because one of us has a deep, primal need for the other.

I long for and desire my perfect partner. Not a perfect person, but a person that’s perfect for me. Someone who will help me grow and challenge me when I need it, and who will learn and speak my love languages. Someone who will mess up, and who I’ll mess up with but then who’ll reflect on that with me. Someone who fights for what they want because they feel passionate, and who treats me the way I deserve. Someone who I can spoil with surprises and random massages when their bodies are tired or hurting. Someone who wants me the way that I want them.

This longing and desire are so sickeningly sweet inside of me, because while it lets me know that I haven’t completely given up on finding love or feeling like I deserve it, it stings to have all of it pent up with no one to shower it on. Which is where this obsession is coming from.

Isn’t it funny how we can trick ourselves into forming deep attachments and connections with people we’ve never met? It doesn’t matter that you’ve only ever seen this person on a screen or heard their voice one time on the radio or in a show. If something about them is interesting enough, we take a closer look to see what we can find. Follow them on the internet and watch every video you can of them, foolishly convincing yourself that you know them as a person. You tell yourself that this is fine behavior and you become convinced by your own efforts that this harmless infatuation won’t get in the way of things. But don’t let it go further. Please, for the love of God, don’t take it further. And I haven’t – and I won’t. But oh, does my mind and body long for me too.

But this person that I’m forming an attachment for, this mild obsession, has become all-consuming in my life. I can’t go a day without thinking about them, imagining a life with them. Imagining giving all my desires, my longings, a home inside of this person who doesn’t know of my existence. And what a tempting way to live – to pine over something you can’t have, to let your mind run free with thoughts over them because there is the slimmest possibility that you’ll ever even meet them, so what’s the harm in thinking about them any which way? What’s the harm in imagining coming home and falling into their arms or thinking about how you’d take care of each other when the other wasn’t feeling well? What’s so wrong thinking about the deep, personal truths you’d share with each other, or thinking about how it’d feel to run your hands over their body while their hands explore yours?

Maybe nothing is inherently wrong about simply wanting, but it does feel like a treacherous path to take at times. You walk a thin line with desires like these. A line where reality and fantasy meet but shouldn’t mix. What happens when the line blurs and for a brief time you forget what’s real and what’s not? What happens when your fantasy is so much better than reality that you actively chose to live in your head most of your time? I feel as though I’m dangerously close to finding out, not that anyone else would ever know. I’ve learned to hide it so well by now that no one picks up on the kinds of things that have invaded my mind. I’ve kept the lid on tight, and I don’t think I could even loosen it again even if I wanted to.

And while my efforts for preserving my outward image to others have been successful, I still feel it inside eating away at my resolve and strength. I can feel the longing and desire, the obsession, boiling the blood in my veins. My mind wants. My body wants. I want. But wanting can ruin you if you’re not careful. It can get in the way of the actual relationships you have, or responsibilities if you spend too much time in these fantasies. It can cause you to become someone you’re not, compromising your values and shake you to your core until you barely recognize yourself. But if that’s the price I might have to pay for this painfully delicious fire flooding my veins and warming my skin; if that’s the trade for feeling some moments of intense hunger and longing that make me feel more alive than I have in months, then come. Invade me. Overwhelm me. Make me crave; make me want. Make me desire.

Ruin me.