i've reached a dangerous place with you, my heart. i've become so dependent upon you and your time that my chest tightens when you are away. i wait in my corner of the world, hands clenched to my bosom, every muscle tensed in anticipation of your return. it is sick and ridiculous and i cannot help it. sleep comes not soon enough most evenings, and my rational mind tells me that this is a phase, that it shall pass, and quickly so. but 'til such time as that may be, i cannot think but of you; i cannot breathe but your scent; i cannot speak but your name. and i am lost.