My obsession with Margot Robbie isn’t just in my mind—it’s in my blood, in every breath I take. She’s not a crush. She’s not a fantasy. She’s an intrusion I welcome, a voice that never leaves, a face I see even when I close my eyes. I don’t just think about her—I need her, like a sickness I don’t want cured. I want her close, too close, close enough to hear her heartbeat slow when she realizes she’s not alone. I imagine her trapped in a place no one else knows about, where I can watch her without end, where every second is mine. Not to love. To possess. I don’t care if she screams or cries—I’ll listen. I’ll memorize it. That’s what obsession is: not wanting someone, but needing to own them so completely they forget they were ever free.
Posted by FCBPsycho