I am a compulsive obsessive. That is, I need to regularly become obsessed with people. I need to constantly have someone in my life that I can follow in my mind and adore from afar. In the past few years I have wandered, blundered, through various obsessions and I have no idea whether it will stop.

What I have not made clear, though I should have, is the pleasure that this affords me. Every little piece of knowledge I gain about that person, every time I get to mention him or her in a conversation, every time I see a place or an object I connect with that person I smile to myself. It's a fleeting moment of pleasure but even the most fleeting of pleasures can add up.

There are also tiny moments of exquisite, intense pleasure when I remember a smile, a small conversation or look ahead to future meetings. The pleasure that an obsessive person gains is almost too much to come under the heading 'minor', in fact.

So what does the daily routine of one like myself involve? Nothing much out of the ordinary, but that my senses are always alert to chance mentions or chance meetings. As an obsession deepens you find yourself accumulating facts about the person's life or even timetable. What classes they have at a certain time, if it's someone in your school, where they work if it's not. Where they went for their holidays, what's their opinion on ketchup, anything. One serious hindrance to me is the fact that I can never mention the name of any of 'my' people without smiling and blushing and though I think myself very subtle, my eagerness to talk about this person falls over itself trying to be satisfied. My mind is also filled with thoughts of my person or people. I imagine situations in which I meet them, talk carelessly to them and then pass on. This has an added trouble. I generally take to assuming that I will meet my people wherever I go and am almost constantly disappointed.

An example is probably required at this point. I will recall for you an obsession which has long since passed and causes no pain. One of the boys in my class brought a student from America into school with him one day. I didn't really notice him for the first few days but gradually I began to notice the way he raised his eyebrows and smiled at you, with brightened eyes when he was amused. This information I only gained by watching him at a distance, it was weeks before I spoke to him. He mainly stayed with Keith, his exchange partner and his girlfriend Aoife, also in my class. I began to find this student, Ian was his name, increasingly interesting. I do believe that the word is 'interesting' and not 'attractive'. While I would like to tell myself that I was falling in love with him, I know that it's not true. I found his personality, what I could overhear, that is, fascinating and enjoyed observing his little habits like the way he chewed his pens or sat in his seat with his shoes off. I began to clock up information, third-hand information, about his family, home, friends, social life, Then, joy of joys, we were put working together on a geography project. My 'charm' functions came on full blast and immediately blew a fuse by trying to be over-active. I laughed too hard, paused for too long and stared too much. But I was used to such behaviour having had this personality for many years. I got to know Ian quite well eventually. I went out with him for a week or two and my obsession died down.

That's one of the ways these things end, you see. If you see a lot of this person, the unattainability wears off and they're less of a mystery. Sometimes they leave your life so completely that they are forgotten and rarely, you fight and part. But the amount of little pleasures derived from the small things cannot be brushed over and, as I do not have any particular hobbies, will have to be catalogued as the minor pleasures of my life.

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