Bewilderment fell upon me as I sat and gazed at her reflection, taking it in, tasting its colors and seeing its flavors. My mind began to run and I tried to remember the time when I was satisfied just by seeing her on the platform every morning. Time became muddled and I couldn’t figure out when that was no longer enough. I lost sight of the transition. When did just the simple sight of her stop making me happy? At what point did that desire to just look turn into the desire to speak, then to touch, then to kiss, to fuck, to love, to hold and caress. When did she become a necessity?

At some point in history my breathing became shortened and my heart’s palpitations banged against my chest begging for her presence because her sight was not enough. I was reduced to a bulb with no electricity. She became the Tesla to my coil, the one that gave me life, the being that wound me up at the start of my day and kept me going. For without her I’m reduced to nothing. Useless and forgotten, lifeless and rotting, a mindless zombie wandering without a purpose; wondering if this feeling is forever, or if I will grow tired of her. Is she just a phase? Am I just HER phase?