>I picture them all the time, even when I’m supposed to be doing work. I see them moving in their rooms, hear their voices in my head, every laugh like it’s meant just for me. Sometimes I imagine sneaking into their streams unseen, watching them closer than anyone else, seeing every little detail no one else notices—the way they fidget, the way their eyes catch the light, the little expressions they think nobody sees. I imagine them reading my comments, maybe smiling at me in a way that makes my stomach twist, and I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s like they’re orbiting me, pulling me closer, and I’m helpless to resist. I catch myself thinking about them when I close my eyes at night, imagining being in their rooms, seeing them in ways no one else does, hearing them laugh at things only I would understand… and it’s intoxicating, addictive, and I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop.
