The Infatuation
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       The moon beams were like powerful flashlights striking the soft waves of the lake. Light from the moon and the slow, rhythmic movement of the waves were hypnotizing her. She stretched out on the warm grass under her and reached out to touch her lover. Her heart rate increased and she smiled. A perfect evening. A perfect lover. How fortunate she was. Life was sublimely good.
       After they returned to the city from their love filled week at the lake she resumed her regular schedule. Work, gym, dance classes, a night of dancing with her lover and a Thursday lunch with girl friends.
       After her Tuesday night dance class she took her lover to their favorite little pub on the cityís west side. They shared the evening. He was beside her every minute of their date. He watched as she would reach out, touching him, to be sure he was close. Just touching him gave her warm feelings, gave her security.
       On their first warm spring day together they walked in the park. She held him closely, checking him every few minutes to be sure he remained close to her.
       After their walk they decided to return to her apartment, where he would spend the night.
       She cooked a Porterhouse steak, a large Idaho potato and asparagus, followed by vanilla ice cream with chocolate syrup. She ate the dinner and dessert, watched the evening news on television then went to her bedroom to change into a slinky teddy. As she climbed into bed she made sure that her best friend and steady companion lay next to her, safely and comfortably resting on the soft pillow next to her.
       She woke up at midnight, 2 a.m. and again at 5 a.m. to be sure that he was functioning well. She listened closely to his functions
       At 7 a.m. the alarm went off. She immediately turned to the pillow next to her. There he was. He hadnít moved since they went to bed. She touched him and felt secure. He was her best friend and she realized that she couldnít live without him. He had become essential to her well-being. She reached out and touched him. He was smooth to the touch. When she touched him she loved the way he lit up. It made her feel alive when she saw the electricity flow in him.
       Every day when she went to her job in the marketing department of a large department store he was with her. The pair was inseparable. Hardly a handful of minutes would go by that didnít find her holding him closely. She would stare at him and just knowing he was there and close to her would cause a rush of pleasure producing dopamine that would enliven her.
       There were so many things about him that she could no longer live without. Just holding him close brought comfort to her.
       On the anniversary of their one month together they went to the cityís best and most expensive restaurant. She spent the evening checking with him. Every few moments she gave her total attention to her companion. People at the tables surrounding her noticed that she was constantly checking him. She couldnít keep her eyes from him. She even pulled him closer so she could eat her dinner and still keep her eyes on him. He was a magnet for her attention. Nothing could capture her awareness but him.
       She realized the infatuation she had. It didnít matter. She had him. He had become her focus. She was fixated on him.      
       She checked with him constantly. He had become her obsession. He slept next to her. She traveled with him wherever she went.
       Her friends noticed the change in her. She walked with a dull stare in her eyes. Every few minutes she looked at him, checking, always checking. She refused to be apart from him.
       When she showered he waited, carefully placed on top of three soft towels, just outside the clear shower door.  
       There were so many parts to him. He was a friend, a confident, a teacher Ė he had become a complex and irresistible part of her life. She could not function without him.
       People noticed the change in her. The way she walked. holding him, touching him, being close to him. Every few minutes seeing if anything was new with him.
       She began to notice the people around her. So many of them were obsessed as she was. They acted like her. Where ever she went she saw people walking and acting like her.
       It didnít matter. She only wanted to be close to her friend, her companion, her obsession.
       She had come to the conclusion that the bewitchment for her friend had taken over her life. She couldnít help herself. All that mattered was being close to him.
       Every night when she went to bed she made sure he was beside her - laying there on the pillow beside her.
       She might be obsessed, but she didnít care Ė as long as her beloved iPhone was close to her all the time.
Bye Bye Big Banks