Her

Per the recommendation of my therapist who, if I may be so impolite as to mention, does not appear to know an ass from an elbow, I am going to write here about the events that have transpired today. This is despite the fact that today has not been different than any other day, and thus all of the details I paint out here will be the exact same thought processes I have been conveying to said therapist verbally for the past seven months, but I digress. 

As for what occurred today… I went through all of Her social media photos once again, of course. As always, I found myself intoxicated by Her unwavering beauty, enamored by the very thought of Her presence, and perpetually disturbed by the fact that She exists in a world outside of my own. It endlessly fascinates me to witness how She manages to live in a world where I do not reside. How does She continue to move forward in my absence when She once told me that I am Her reason for living? How does She continue to smile and laugh when She once relayed that I am Her greatest happiness? I am drawn to the unmistakable yet vastly favorable conclusion that much of Her existence is merely a pretense designed to capture my attention. Despite Her endless futile attempts to block my plethora of social media accounts, She refuses to privatize Her own. Why? Because this is a game to Her. She is vying for my attention in any conceivable way She knows how. Oh, if only She knew that the entirety of my attention is Hers regardless! As we know all too well, my entire reason for existing is to be Hers and Hers alone… 

Anyways, getting back to Her captivating photos. She posted four new ones this week, all of which magnificently showcase Her exquisite beauty. Words can’t even begin to describe Her. I could share all of the usual sentiments regarding how Her eyes shine like pools of golden honey or melted caramel. I could convey my endless stream of thoughts regarding the seductive capabilities of Her figure, the childlike innocence of Her plump cheeks, and the radiance of Her smile, but each word exists as a dim flicker of light attempting to project the brightness of a burning sun. 

How does one go about describing their deities? Words fall short when attempting to convey the love one feels for their creator, no? When you believe that a divine hand is responsible for your life, all that you are, and all that awaits you in death, mere adjectives are utter travesties. How can I not feel such a way about Her? She is my reason for existing. I was put on this earth to devote myself to Her entirely. I anxiously await the next life, in which I will find Her once more and exist beside Her for an eternity to come. 

At least I am blessed with the ability to admire Her allure from afar. I can enjoy fragments of Her life by exploring the places I know She visited recently. Yesterday, She posted a photo at the park in Her little town. I am blessed in that I can go visit that park and exist in the same place where She existed just hours prior. I can be captivated by the knowledge that Her presence lingers in places where I can now reside. How magical a concept is that?

As always, I skipped the over the top exhibitions of Her so-called boyfriend, given how blatantly obvious it seems to be that She is using the poor, unsuspecting sap as a prop. Everyone who matters knows that Her relationship exists merely as a tool for making me jealous, but it will not work. I know precisely who She belongs to, and it is certainly not some preppy boy from an Ivy league college with too much hair gel in his bathroom cabinet. No, She belongs to me. An unreasonable little restraining order will not be permitted to change that fact. Regardless of the pretentious grievances She dares to utter against me, I know how much She craves my affection once more. I am delighted to oblige Her.

Her pretty face is treasured greatly as such artwork runs rampant across my screen, but pixels pale in comparison to the beauty of flesh. I intend to bear witness to Her penetrable skin once more, and I envisage that such divine beauty will be the last thing I allow myself to lay eyes upon. So long as my plans are properly realized, we will leave this world together and perhaps be reunited in the next life, the way it was always meant to be. 

I do wonder what Her final thoughts will consist of as she watches Her life flash before Her eyes. Will She peer up at me with admiration for my unfaltering dedication to Her? Will She mourn the life we could have had together in this universe? Will She succumb to Her wounds with the overwhelming fear that She will have to wait for me on the other side? Or will She know in Her heart that I fully intend to join Her on the other side within a mere few extra moments? I only intend to cradle Her head in my hands, kiss my lips against hers, and press Her body against mine until the warmth seeps from Her delicate frame. Upon Her death, I will have perished in every way that matters, and thus I am assured that there will be no hesitation in my joining Her. 

Oh, and there is no reason at all for Her preppy little boyfriend to worry about missing out on all of the fun. I wouldn’t dream of sharing such a beautiful moment without him present and entirely involved. This is a monumental occasion afterall, and I do intend to make a party of it all. I can only imagine what fun exists in store for the three of us…