It no longer rules your life, lingers in the back of every thought, controls your free and occupied time, makes you feel like an utter pervert in the extent to which you seek out interviews and any online presence, nor sends you into an existential frenzy as to whether you have a crush on or want to be this person. You’re free! And now that you’re not wholly consumed with some talented stranger you can go back to enjoying the work the way you did right before it turned into a full blown obsession but now there’s a warm fondness from the time and intensity you’ve given to this thing you now know you love, the love that now makes this thing (album, movie, book, artwork, etc) a part of you and loving it is almost like loving yourself—hearing the song in public is like hearing the sound of the soft animal of your body (subdued to a whisper) and that’s all it is! something tender, something remembered, an embrace of something deeper, but not as destabilizing as it once was.