Land of Oz

You don't know yet, but I am in love with you. And no - I'm not talking about any particular kind of love. Just love; chilling, relentless, harrowing, breathtaking, staggering, remarkable, peace-bringing and war-causing L-O-V-E, love.

It may seem that I am simply standing here, making facid and articulate conversation with you. But on the inside I am running at you with brute force to imprint upon you the world's most dangerous smooch! Right on those fucking dulcet lips of yours.

I know the strangest things about you. I know your fears, your goals, your dreams, your carefully obsessive mannerisms, I know the way your face wrinkles when you speak. I know the details of your past and your hopes for the future. I've studied your religion. I've studied your hands. Yet I still don't know your favorite color or your middle name.

I can recreate your face when I stare at the ceiling. That's how acutely I have you memorized. And there's no doubt about how much I venerate the idea of having you inbetween me and the ceiling. I fantasize about it when we are having those silly conversations of ours.

You're incredibly weird, so weird in fact that it twists my perception. I want to be weird with you, I want to fit into your strange little world. I want to rule this Land of Oz with you. I want to find myself so lost in the labyrinth with you that we both forget who we are.

And still, you remain clueless. You talk to me about the weather. You talk to me about current events. You talk to me about political affairs. And I realize that you are never going to run at me with a kiss. You are never going to tell me your middle name. You will never sandwich yourself between me and the ceiling. You will never have me acutely memorized, nor will you ever consider my lips agreeable in any way.

So no, you do not know that I love you - with that chilling, relentless, blood-curdling kind of love.