Lovesick Delusion in a letter

It feels like I haven't written one in over a month but the reality of it is, it's been a few weeks. I crave something I can't grasp. I yearn for something that isn't mine. I pine after something that might never be. I've analyzed my feelings to the point where even a computer could tell what they are. I've sorted them into categories and boxes trying to understand why they decided to settle the way they did. Why they settled on an unconditional love for someone I barely know first hand. I was trying to find the logic in the illogical ways of the heart. Every way I read the results, they always came out to you. I was already done refuting the fact that I've held feelings in my heart for 2 years. Now I have to come to terms with the idea that I own them. They are mine. These feelings I hold and want to release like a horse at the gate moments before the starting bell, they are mine to wield. All I want to do with them is bury them in the sand or toss them in the sea. Which, to be honest, feels disrespectful to both myself and you, for being the person I have feelings for. I feel separate from everyone else because of them though. I want to say that the pics from photoshoots or selfies murder me like all the others who claim to love you do, but they don't. When I see them, I smile fondly hoping for a day where my eyes grace yours again. When I listen to your music, I try to see your perspective on why it was worthy of sharing and listening on repeat. I don't want to scream till my lungs collapse and my voice fades into silence at a concert. I can't help but daydream about deep conversations about nothing in particular that make the romance last. Whenever your fans scream over attention you give them, I feel like I need to sit back in silence because I've been given more than them by just having these feelings. It forces me to analyze myself in ways I had stopped doing. I have always wanted to be a normal girl. That extends to being a fan. I've never been a normal fan of any celebrity. I've either become friends with the celebrity or I have interacted with them in such a way that it changed my standing within the fandom. Now I am convinced I was never meant to be normal. It's well-established in weird. It's only taken me 29 years to come to terms with it. This weird soul is in love, at least in a small way romantically, with you. Love is never divided, but multiplied. Your love for your fans is loves amplified by 7, always. It makes it hard for the individual to find a voice, but not impossible. Love is the answer to the question. (not really, it's 42) When my love is shared, it is amplified because I choose to share it openly. I don't deny my feelings. I don't try to hide them or ignore them. I write them down in words as best I can for the whole world to see. That's why I feel separated from the others. Not that right now matters when the world is in limbo. Right now is a girl finding too many words to say she feels weird falling in love with a person she feels she can never have. Right now is craving conversations I've had under the loving heat of a European summer.