PSYCHO If you want a Vegas wedding or the chance to file a restraining order, date an adopted person, or— really what I am saying: me. This is how it will go. We'll meet and we’ll hug because somehow it’s like we already know each other. We will marvel at how comfortable we are with each other throughout dinner. You, in particular, will marvel. Other girls hold themselves back more, are less available, perhaps. We will go back to my house or your house and fool around. The best thing will be if we have little in common. Perhaps English is not your first language or you are a Republican or you have addiction issues. I will fall in love with you and start fantasizing about our life together. I will imagine walking your dog. I will imagine learning to cook the foods your mother cooks. I will think of all the ways I can make your life better. I will be one hundred percent in until 1 start feeling like I am losing my edges, my sense of who I am, and then, if we didn’t get to Vegas in time, the relationship will end suddenly because I will get farious over something you did: maybe you were late to pick me up or maybe you told me not to talk with my mouth full, and I will tell you exactly what is on my mind with all the bitterness I have stored in my guts, and you will wonder what happened to the funny and sweet person you had met not all that long ago. Ifyou are the one to break up with me, the story will be different. | will think I am going to die, and I will write long emails and texts telling you about the power of my love and how, in five years, you will realize letting go of me was the biggest mistake of your life as no one will be able to love you as completely oras unconditionally as I can. I will walk around feeling like a bell someone has hit overly hard. I will cry in the car, during yoga, when I wake up in the morning. I will be swimming in a sea of missing you so profound I won't see any shore. The problem is that part of my brain likes the ache of longing more than it likes the safety of your company. Being with you after the first few dates starts to feel like watching a movie I’ve already seen, and I start looking forward to when you drive off for the night so I can get back to the sweet fall of missing you. But when you disappear, when you stop answering my texts and my calls, the sweetness also disappears and I am a wreck. Tloved you more than I had ever loved any man. was meant to be with you. There is no one else, and there will never be another man as perfect for me as you are. I will barely be able to breathe. It’s like I have disappeared and all that’s left is this pair of lungs that I'm supposed to fill, and it is a hideous task, painful and slow. Thave felt this so many times I can’t even count. Each time is brand new. Each time I think I may not survive. I know if I can convince you to come back, to love me, everything will be okay. It will feel like my job to convince you. It will feel that some higher power told me to do it and, really, even if | don’t like you much, I have to keep trying to convince you to love me because the force controlling the wheel in my brain is telling me this is an urgent matter.After two or three weeks pass and the hormones and god knows what else settles, I will look back and wonder where I had gone, why I had thought a man none of my friends considered viable dating material was the perfect one for me.