It’s escape after escape.

Something to occupy my mind in the dull moments.

Something to keep me from feeling in the dull moments.

But sometimes they do a little too much.

They bring me a little too much happiness,

And then I feel an obsession coming on.

Suddenly it’s not enough to exist in the quiet times,

It has to occupy all my time.

I keep thinking about it

And like an addiction

I need the content

To satisfy my cravings.

And if I go without it,

I feel unwell.

I feel anxious.

And suddenly I’m back to the symptoms

I was trying to avoid.

The obsession takes over my life.

It’s all I think about.

It worries me that their world isn’t mine,

That the show or book or story is not real.

I want to be her.

It kills me that I’m not her.

I want to go back to watching her life.

I can’t live my life any more.

Not when it pails in comparison.

Not when nothing makes me quite happy like it does,

And I know it has to end.