Truly satisfying. *Burp*
We had way too many cocktails, and woke mid afternoon with a hangover.
Critting is a tough business. So is drinking martini's till four in the morning. Kris did an admirable job of keeping up, drink out of water, whilst treading and reading all your lovely suggestions ...
Here is the final version.
Obsession is a funny thing.
It’s a strange mistress that takes your soul and leaves you barren. I never expected to be here. Never expected to lose everything that ever mattered to me. But I think what makes me cringe the most, the one thing that keeps me up at night staring at the tiny cracks in the ceiling-is the fact that I don’t care. I know for certain that I’m not crazy. I know that the sky is blue and that there are no purple monkeys hiding in my closet waiting to kill me while I sleep. I am fully aware of what I am doing. I am fully aware that I have deeply hurt people. I know that I will not be forgiven for my actions. I don’t deserve to. But with all that knowledge piled into my very sane head- I just don’t care.
My life before seems like a distant memory. Happy and full of promise. It’s a stark contrast to the disheveled landscape I inhabit now. But it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is her. Just her. I can’t explain it. There’s no rhyme or reason as to why a very regular blue collar schmuck such as myself would give everything up for a chance to be near her. She doesn’t even know me. I could walk by her on the street and she wouldn’t even glance my way. She wouldn’t have a moment of “where do I know you from?” I am a ghost in her world. But it’s her world that has sucked me in and rattled the very structure I once stood upon.
I have to know her. I have to reach her. I have to be with her.
Obsession is a funny thing.
Just another day...
Coffee is the best invention mankind has ever made, in my humble opinion. It’s delicately bitter. Hot, smooth, and bursting with sharp notes of earth and wood. Breathing the energizing aroma while I take just the slightest sip lets me know that everything is right in the world.
“Owen, I need your help for a sec,” Hannah called, as she fumbled with the pickle jar lid.
I glanced up from the Monday morning newspaper, over my squared shaped glasses and gave her a grin.
Hannah was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. The way the fabric of her floral summer dress draped subtly over her willowy body made my heart beat double time. Why on earth would a gorgeous woman like her be with a boring guy like me?
I got up from the small round table that was thoughtfully placed by the bay window and sauntered over to my beautiful wife. She held out the glass jar, pouting, frustrated at her inability to crack open that jar. I said nothing. Just took it and placed a hand over the lid.
“What am I going to do when you’re gone? I can’t even open a pickle jar for Christ's sake!” she huffed and bared her weight against the black granite counter top, arms crossed tightly over her chest.
Smiling, I popped the lid without much effort, handing it back to her, “You loosened it up for me.” My answer didn’t ease my wife’s irritation, so I pulled her in, placing a small kiss on her cheek.
“I’m going to miss you so much,” Hannah whispered into my crisp grey collar.
“I’m going to miss you too, but I’ll be back before you know it. Besides it’s only for three days and your mother is coming up to visit,” I said, breathing her vanilla scent.
I found it amusing that one little innocuous thing could evoke all the pleasure and love I had within me. A quick waft of her delicate perfume was enough to recall our entire relationship. Flashes of the day we met, the day I asked her to marry me, our wedding...
I immediately felt relaxed and safe. Hannah never knew just how intoxicating she was to me.
I’d never tell her, it was my own little secret.
There you go folks, take it or leave it ... Tune in next week for another victim.