I put a spell on you, because you are not mine.
I sold a piece of my soul to a smooth and besuited shark in order to get the location of the recipe. He licked his lips with anticipation as I handed it over, all beribboned and shining. I shan’t miss it, and I definitely don’t feel any twinge or hollow.
In order to get my eager hands on the recipe, I battled monsters, scaled the highest heights and descended the very deepest depths. All for you, my beloved.
The list of ingredients, when I found it, was arcane, mundane and profane. The breath of my sleeping beloved. A single strand of my hair plucked by the light of a gibbous moon. Earth gathered from beneath my beloved’s threshold (no easy task when one’s beloved lives in a city apartment). A mote of satisfaction extracted from my rival. That one was easier to obtain than many, my beloved. He doesn’t deserve you whilst he’s so easily led, so simply beguiled and so willingly ambiguous. He’s weak and flabby inside, despite the veined musculature and carefully chosen wardrobe.
All of these things and more I have assembled, in order to draw you to me and win your heart. Soon, my beloved, you will love me to the exclusion of all else. You will want only me and know only my eyes. You will wonder what you saw in that oaf, because and I will fill your life past, present and future. You will love me as a cloistered sister loves her remote and unavailable saviour.
I will not be remote, however. I will be no more than a breath away; by your side always. Even when my body is not near, my heart and mind will always be with you. I will watch your every move from behind your eyes, and I will know your every thought.
You will never, ever, leave me again.