refreshing images just disappeared. When you have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, you don't

really get quiet moments. Even in bed I'm thinking did I lock the door yes did I wash

my hands yes did I lock the door yes did I wash my hands yes. But when I saw her, the

only thing I could think about was the hairpin curve of her lips or the eyelash on her cheek

the eyelash on her cheek the eyelash on her cheek. I knew I had to talk to her.

I asked her out six times. In thirty seconds. She said yes after the third one, but none

of them felt right so I had to keep going. On our first date I spent more time organizing

my meal by color than I did eating or ******* talking to her, but she loved it. She loved that I

had to kiss her goodbye sixteen times or twenty-four times if it was Wednesday. She loved that

it took me forever to walk home because there are a lot of cracks in our sidewalk.

When we moved in together, she said that she felt safe, like no one would ever rob us because

I definitely locked the door 18 times. I'd always watch her mouth when she talked when

she talked when she talked when she talked. When she said she loved me, her mouth would

curl up at the edges. At night, she'd lay in bed and watch me turn all the lights off

and on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off. She'd close her eyes and imagine

that days and nights were passing in front of her.

Some mornings, I'd start kissing her goodbye but she'd just leave because I was making

her late for work. When I stopped at a crack in the sidewalk, she just kept walking. When

she said she loved me, her mouth was a straight line. She told me I was taking up too much

of her time.

Last week she started sleeping at her mother's place. She told me that she shouldn't have

let me get so attached to her, that this whole thing was a mistake, but how can it be a mistake

that I don't have to wash my hands after I touch her? Love is not a mistake. It's killing

me that she can run away from this and I just can't. I can't go out and find someone new

because I always think of her.

Usually, when I obsess over things, I see germs sneaking into my skin. I see myself

crushed by an endless succession of cars. She was the first beautiful thing I ever got

stuck on. I want to wake up every morning thinking about the way she holds her steering

wheel. How she turns shower knobs like she's opening a safe. How she blows out candles

blows out candles blows out candles blows out candles blows out candles blows out candles

blows out—now I just think about who else is kissing her. I can't breathe because he

only kisses her once. He doesn't care if it's perfect. I want her back so bad, I leave the

door unlocked. I leave the lights on.