Joe Goldberg is beginning to wonder if there's any more decent people in the world. With both Candace and Beck out of the picture, he's feeling lonely and starting to give up on love. That is, until Leila comes sobbing into Mooney's. Fragile and vul...
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There's a fine line between love and obsession, one that I'm only all too familiar with. In the week since I've met you, Leila, I've been contemplating just that. Are my feelings strong enough for such a damning term, or are you just an object of infatuation?
I've come to realize I can be a little obsessed when it comes to love. Take my relationship with Beck, for example. I was foolish enough to let my emotions run me to the ground. I nearly died trying to prove to her I was what was healthy for her.
And in the end, it didn't even matter.
Did it?
And that's a problem. A BIG problem. Reckless, obsessive love is toxic. It's dangerous. Which is why I have to be sure you're worthy before I insert myself in your life so things won't be so... Messy.
But, again. I know it's only been a week since we've met and it's still too early on in our relationship to fully comprehend the depths of these feelings bubbling up inside of me. I know somewhere in the far corners of my mind we have potential to grow together, to be bolder and stronger than any one of my past flings, but still. I worry I'm making the same mistakes as before.
Falling too hard.
Too fast.
Try as I might to shake your image from my brain, my mind holds onto your whimsical smile like a child clutching the string of a balloon. If I dare to think of something else, I just might let the balloon go soaring into space. Never to be seen again.
I'd crumble if that ever happened.
Shatter.
So I try to keep things casual with you. Give you the standard "good morning" texts between bits of banter and superficial flirting. But you don't seem to be into small talk. You greet me with emojis and distant replies. The occasional phone call and drunken messages. And though the last thing I want to do is cyber stalk you, you really leave me no other choice.
I've spent the past three days exploring my options. Going through any and every loose end that may lead back to you, sifting through the endless sea of Delilah Mendez's on the internet. No matter how many profiles I search, you're not there.
And here's the kicker: I already knew you weren't on social media.
If you wanted to be seen, you wouldn't have legally changed your name to "Leila Cole".
Lucky for you, you're cute. And I like a challenge.
I've channeled my energy into the next best thing, micro analyzing our conversations to see if I can pick up on anything you might have vainly been hiding. It's not hard, Leila, because though you try to keep yourself together you're falling apart at the seams.
