Heart Pumping Reason Dying

The beginning of a good girl's obsession with a married man

They say life is a never ending battle between choosing what you know and what you feel.

They didn't tell you that what you feel almost always wins. 

Heart Pumping, stomach churning. I am intoxicated, I am finished, I am done for.

I would have given even my tortured heart to go back to how it was before: cool, calm, sane.

But I can't help but stand there, useless, while i see the fog advancing: threatening, hungry, ruthless.

I await it greedily. Expectant. Frightened to death. Beaming with longing. 

I cannot fight it so I wallow in the sweet opaque fog and lose my senses.

I, the sensible girl. I, the reasonable, principled "good" girl. I, the Jane Eyre amongst Kareninas .

How grotesquely funny.

How unavoidable it seems that I would be lost to those wild passions, of all things.

Too long avoided, too often scorned and looked down upon, it was now taking its revenge in the most vicious manner.

Reason dying. Myself I was losing.

To man who, on his left hand, wore a ring.