Inanimate

I'm waiting, just waiting. The parents think it's got to stop, that it's all too much, that I'm too obsessed. What am I going to tell the counsellor? How can I explain that I like to read, that the words get caught up in my mind, that I want to make them real? "Doctor," I'd say, hoping they were properly qualified, "yes, it might seem unusual that I stare, I dreamily gaze, at traffic-lights, at pavements, at peaches, but I read it, I read it here, how wondrous it can be, and I want to fall in love with them too. I'm sick of relationships with people, they always go so wrong, and now I just want to be as if I were in a story. I want to fall in love with something inanimate too. It's not so crazy, if you think about it, people aren't all that exist in the world. Why limit myself so much like other people seem to? No, I shall continue to stare, to lovingly gaze until I make that connection, until we click, just as I read can happen."