Limerence

Limerence.

I watch two boys love,

fall in love,

make love.

I watch and I

yearn/regret/wish/hate.

I want the strong jaw, like a coarse-cut diamond:

I want the rough mouth,

the calloused hands,

the foreign tongue and the

thoughts about love,

European in texture and quality.

I break my own heart with these

romanticisms, these

musings.

Dark freckles like star spangles or

paint spatters.

Organic constellation mapping

skin the color of

beeswax,

coffee-and-cream,

peach flesh,

etcetera, etcetera.

I break my heart,

but I don't desire this:

the symptom that shapes itself in my psyche as

Limerence:

obsession,

aching,

desperation,

desire,

fire, and

violence.

I am not a girl or a woman;

I am revolted by myself:

I want to split my own hide and

peel it back,

step into the clean air and purifying light

of youth,

innocence,

seduction.

I wish to be somebody I never was:

somebody who has never

and

will never

exist.

Humans like these exist only

in printed words and in

scripted scenes.

But the pain?

That is real.

The heartbreak?

That too.

This is Limerence.

This is a symptom.

And yet

it exists in the realities of

minds and hearts

hemorrhaging from their imaginary wounds.

- - - - - - - - - -

Limerence is a symptom of some Personality Disorders in which the sufferer becomes fixated on a person or persons, real or fictional. This romanticized obsession interferes with the sufferer's reality in the form of distraction, intrusive thoughts, intense psychological yearning, and emotional suffering.