I need therapy. Not because I'm in a bad place. Not because my life sucks. (Although I've been there, too). But because I don't know if it's normal to like someone (I don't want to say "love" only because love has so many definitions, and so much baggage attached to it, but we're definitely talking about a very powerful form of like here) so much it hurts. And whether it's normal or not, I'm not sure I know how to deal with these feelings. Is my psychology abnormal? I tend to vary between casual indifference and overwhelming obsession from one person to another. Why do I have to get so absorbed into people (very few people, but when you're dealing with this level of obsession, you don't have room for very many) that it feels painful to be away from them for a second? Attraction is quite literal in my case. I want to spend every waking moment in this person's presence, because every other moment is spent thinking about them.

I'm used to having this feeling for relative strangers. And for people that aren't all that into me. It's painful, but there's a natural barrier to getting too close to the source of burning passion. What I'm not prepared for is someone who also likes me. And yet, there's another barrier. I'm not going to blame society any more than psychology for getting in the way of what I think would make me happy. It's just that we can't have that kind of relationship. I don't even know if she wants that kind of relationship, because we can't really talk about these things. Not because we're not allowed to, but because I don't know that she even has the concept in her head, and I'd fear that even if we could talk about it (which we can't), I'd either ruin her for introducing it, or else ruin our relationship if that's not what she's interested in. And even if she were interested, it's not like we could pursue it. Practically, or permissibly. But I do sense a lot of subtext. (Curse me now if I'm reading too much into things).

You know what the ironic part is? It's not even sexual. I'm not saying I don't have a strong physical attraction to her - I do. Oh, Lord, I do. And in another world, I could see her experimenting with certain activities that would be endlessly enjoyable for the both of us. But not this world. And that's okay. I'm not in this to make her do anything because I want to do it. I'm in this because I've found myself in it. Because here is this person that I've discovered I enjoy very much spending time with, and it's become apparent to me that she enjoys spending time with me, too. And all I want to do is spend as much time with her as she and the fates will allow, and to make her happy as much as it is in my power to do so. You might think that if it's okay that things aren't sexual, then there shouldn't be any problem just carrying on as I am, right? And rationally, I want to believe that. But the intensity of my feelings is indecent. The time we spend together is heaven ("a paradise whose skies are the color of hell-flames--but still a paradise"). But knowing that, how am I supposed to continue carrying on my other life when we're apart? Being with her is like being in the presence of the sun. I burn easily, yet when the pain of the burning starts to fade, all that's left is the cold and the dark. I even begin to miss the pain, because it means I was near her recently. How will I ever pass the night alone, when all I want to do is lay in bed and relive the moments I spent with her, to keep them vivid in my memory?

I'm not dangerous. I'm not a danger to her, or to myself, or to society, or to anyone else. I just want help dealing with feelings that are so powerful, I don't know how to handle them. I don't want to be in ecstasy one moment, and despair the next, especially because I can't tell the one who causes these fluctuations within me how much she means to me. I don't really want to give up the ecstasy (obviously), just to get rid of the despair, but surely there must be a way to handle these fluctuations, and mitigate their intensity just a bit, so I can go on enjoying every second we spend together, without melting into a quivering mess the moment we part. Is this what they call love? Or the symptom of a diseased mind? Still, how could I talk to anyone about my situation authentically without letting on that the person making me feel this way is a preteen girl? So much of the dynamic as well as the limitations of our relationship depend on this fact.

"I do not intend to convey the impression that I do not manage to be happy. Understand that in the possession and thralldom of a nymphet the enchanted traveler stands, as it were, beyond happiness. For there is no other bliss on earth comparable to the affections of a nymphet. It is hors concours, that bliss, it belongs to another class, another plane of sensitivity." Yet it is not just any girl that makes me feel this way. "A normal man given a group photograph of school girls or Girl Scouts and asked to point out the comeliest one will not necessarily choose the nymphet among them. You have to be an artist and a madman, a creature of infinite melancholy, with a bubble of hot poison in your loins and a super-voluptuous flame permanently aglow in your subtle spine (oh, how you have to cringe and hide!), in order to discern at once, by ineffable signs*...the little deadly demon among the wholesome children; she stands unrecognized by them and unconscious herself of her fantastic power."

*There is certainly a physical element involved, but I think it has as much to do with your personal attachment (and attraction) to a girl as the idea that there are certain girls with a special power. The power doesn't emanate from the girl alone, but is created as a sort of spark between two people. I like all girls, but not all of them have that spark (and they are not the same ones that would have the spark for someone else), and few that have the spark are given the opportunity to grow into a full-blown obsession.

Nabokov's focus on sexual predation seems to miss the mark for a lot of us (gladly so), but he got a remarkable amount of the nuances (and the passion of our emotions) right. What's also remarkable is how these same passages that spoke to me when I was first discovering the full extent of my feelings for young girls (and learning that, taboo or not, this was a way you could feel about them) are now filled with such a deep and personal meaning. Imagine being able to put a particular name and a particular face from the cast of characters in your own personal life to the hypothetical fantasies of Lolita that have been swimming around in your wildest dreams for so many years. Not in a sexually explicit way, of course, but emotionally, every bit. I never thought I'd be so lucky. I've never done anything in my life to deserve the happiness she brings me. Maybe the continual pain of separation is the price I have to pay. I may be a fool, but I pay it gladly. I am hopelessly addicted, to the point that I keep hitting "preview" instead of "post" so I can reread this again and again, because it makes me think about her. And not just her, but "us" - the mutual dynamic that makes this situation so special.

Oh, Cupid, why do you play such wicked games with us mortals?