And all of it, this whole grand obsession, carried on in the face of a racing heart, a turning gut, a frantic sense of resistance and disbelief. I shudder at random moments. I tell myself that this has not happened. This is a juvenile episode, a mind trick with deja vu. I grope around inside myself for the old reality. I say to myself that I will get up in the morning feeling unaffected, feeling right again and sane.
But I do not, of course, and the moments when I am with her, the anticipation, the appreciation is exquisite. I feel short of breath and giddy. I laugh too easily, too much. I do what I can to stay near her, show her a paper over her shoulder while she's at her desk, so that I can linger with the details of her person. And then, when I'm by myself, I feel desperate and ashamed. This raging, mad obsession! Where is my world? I am departing. I am gone already.
Presumed Innocent - Scott Turrow