It is not the love. Obsession comes from within. Some vital thing missing and the potential to fill the gap with someone else. The need to feel better about yourself. The glimpse of something you have always wanted to be. A scrap of talent that makes you feel forever inferior.
And so you covet.
The physical comes after. The physicality is the usual thing. You are used to finding the warm bodies irresistible. This is nothing new. But add to this the terrible emptiness, the lack and there is alchemy.
But do not mistake it for love. The love is there and there is an intersection but it is not the thing that binds you. The love is familial. Recognition of commonality. Obsession comes from a place where something is missing, the need to repair. The love does not come with a sense of urgency. I must unpick it so that I can put it together for myself. I am making this thing from scratch, and each thread must be perfectly placed and perfectly coloured.