Obsession

I tend to become completely obsessed with a thing, and hold onto that obsession until it has passed. For example, I have become enamored with the idea of wearing a black wool overcoat. The idea is in me, and I have a sort of vision in my head of this occurrence. Not that I imagine seeing it for the first time, like Christmas. No. I see myself, in the early morning, warm in my jacket, walking out of the capitol building. I can see the grain of the wood on the door and, beyond that, the light golden rays of morning come to warm the cold, crisp winter air. I see it so clearly that I feel I must make it happen. I must experience it. And so I wait, in breathless anticipation, in the hopes that my parents send me one for my birthday.