“Madly in Love”
I hate that expression because it insinuates that there’s another way to love. That’s the only way I’ve ever known.
It’s really a monster that’s too crude for our fragile bodies, and too complex for our limited minds.
It’s the bin of crumpled letters at 3AM; its in an infants first breathe but also a marriages last words; in hellos and goodbyes; words we say everyday and ones we never got to; the quietest Summer nights and the rainy afternoons in Spring; the drunken nights that conceive sobering thoughts; its ubiquitously everywhere yet also confined to our daydreams
It’s interesting how the most well documented phenomenon in human history is probably one that’s only meant to be felt. Including whatever this is.
“And now that it’s over, I’ll never be sober, I couldn’t get believe, but now I’m so high’