I am becoming infatuated.
I can see that, and I am in conflict.
A strong part of me desires this infatuation so badly,
that it doesn't want to listen to reason, or logic.
It doesn't care, it just needs to be sated,
to be fulfilled.
          It is dependent.
                   I am dependent.
          I can't seem to do without this.
Do I need the attention? Do I need to love?
I am like a muscle: I can be strong,
but when ignored and unused,
          I begin to atrophy.
I seek this love, this companionship
                            constantly.
Oh, look. I've found my goal in life.
Money would be nice, fame would be fun,
but I think this would be the most fulfilling.
At the end of the day,
when all of the emotions in my brain sit down,
and judge whether or not I'm actually happy,
they would notice.
          They would realize, and point out.
I am lacking.
I am missing a piece.
Part of me is inactive, because it has no target:
It has no one to fawn over, to care for,
to love, to express sympathy towards, to hold,
to do every single thing possible for.
Someone to make happy.

          Without this piece,
          what am I?
                   I am lacking.