There is a reckless freedom about real love.
A type of loving with wild abandon. It’s aflame, tearing through everything love was made up to be in your mind. It’s so much to take on that it physically hurts.
Even when she’s right there in your eyes and under your fingertips, your heart aches. What’s left is a hallow feeling only she can soothe and it drives you mad. And you cannot get enough of the pain it brings. You get drunk on her.
And yet, through all the chaos of this raw wild obsession, there is a tenderness that melts you. Then, suddenly, she has all of you… all at once.
There is no controlled fall. Not really. Not when it’s this perfect, this passionate. You’re left standing there staring, awestruck, breathless, unable to move all but to kiss her.
Whatever you thought was love before now lives in her shadow. They were steps to lead you to her lips. This is it. She’s everything and all you ever want in the world is to be even half of everything for her.
Thank you for helping me find who I am.