death of One obsession Is Bound to Give rise to Another

That girl...you remember that girl?

I'd like to say I'm not (as) obsessed with her anymore. Where once I may have been an insatiably driven moth mesmerized by the bright and intriguing flame, I'm now content to sit in my pleasant abode of neutrality and calmly look out my window every once in a while to wonder at that same flame.  It's still bright.  It's still intriguing.  But it's enough to watch it from a distance.  And only occasionally, at that.

Even so, I found myself on her blog the other day (psh-aw! "The other day" baloney! I found myself there 10 minutes ago) and I was struck with a thought: very few people leave comments on her posts, which could insinuate that she has very few readers...but that might not be true.  I never leave a comment and I read nearly every post (psh-aw! "Nearly" baloney! I've read every post she's ever written).  But I can't leave a comment, or even "follow" her blog, because then she would know that I'm reading her blog.  It defeats the secretive anonymity that I need as her blog-stalker.

I appreciate that she keeps writing even though I, probably her most faithful reader, have never commented or in any way made known to her that I'm reading what she writes.

So who am I  writing for?  In all honesty, just myself.  But I put it on the web with the small and somewhat futile hope that someone will come upon the words and find something here.  "Something" meaning some sort of connection; either through humor or a mutual experience or common wonderings.

Maybe I have my very own blog-stalker.

(so unlikely.  even as I wrote it, the tiny voice in my mind that came up with it was ambushed and mercilessly mocked by the larger conformist bullies that make up the greater part of my brain.  they're bringing out the tar and feathers now...  look away. look away.)

On a side note:
Our water pipes make sounds like the sigh of a much loved puppy from my childhood.  Tense and wary, I look around nervously every time it happens and vaguely wonder if the apartment is haunted.  Until I remind myself it's only the water pipes.  It's making me jumpy.  Good thing school starts tomorrow.