I never imagined myself becoming so obsessed with her. I never thought I would rush to see her, long to see her in the way that I did. Yet there I was, following her every movement with intent and intensity as if she suddenly disappear from sight if I were to take my eyes off of her. I watched her out of fear and also out of disbelief. I couldn't believe I had the privilege of gazing at such radiant beauty. In hindsight, it was foolish of me not to consider that her beauty shone for everyone - I wasn't special in receiving her warmth nor in recognizing it.
I felt as though she was humoring me. Seeing that I was hooked on her, she let me follow in her wake - slightly amused at my awestruck face, she perhaps shone a little more brightly because she somewhat enjoyed the reverence. I was wary of my inability to hide my feelings towards her. I tried my best to be respectful and to admire from afar. However, the greater the distance I created, the more tempting her light became.
If there were a feeling I remember most, it would be warmth. It drew me in and stole my attention. I gazed upon her until there was nothing else that I could see. I noted her vibrancy, her ferocity. I watched as she glowed, her light changing everything she touched. Bathed in her presence, I could see colors I never thought went together, I heard awe-filled whispers from onlookers also captured by her striking beauty.
She had started changing then, drifting away even, but I hadn't quite noticed nor found any reason to worry. I was enthralled by and with her. Watching her was like watching a dancer. Her reach was so graceful and self-assured. My obsession with her had inhibited my awareness. By the time I started to see the darkness creep in across her face, it was too late to mentally prepare myself. It became so suddenly inevitable that I would lose her, but being so smitten and lustful my subconscious could only summon denial.
I was still watching as intently as I had been at the start if this affair when she suddenly turned cold. I witnessed the exact moment that I lost her. I wasn't necessarily surprised by the disappearance of her warmth and light, but that didn't take away the heaviness and sadness that her absence brought. All of her beauty was now committed to eerie memory. It somehow felt fitting that I would now be haunted by her. Instead of getting lost and overcome by her presence, I found myself clinging to any last sign of her - perhaps being just as lost and overcome, this time by her absence.