Where does love live?

They say we fall into love, as if the floor underneath us had given way. Do we have any control over this enveloping feeling… do I have any control over how I feel about you? This uncertainty hurts, and I know that expectation is something which we must distance ourselves from, but to open myself, to expose this tender side is scary. We don’t expect our loved ones to live forever, and yet our hearts are torn to pieces, and pour out our eyes when they leave this earth. It still hurts all the same. I don’t feel like an obvious choice; I feel like a difficult decision – as if it weren’t self-evident.

‘Do you love me?’,

‘…I’m not sure… oh, this is too hard, I don’t know’.

When we love, we just know – we feel it in our bones, and I feel you in my bones, but I suspect that you don’t know where I live. I’m scared that I’m going to be torn to pieces; I’m fearful that the opening of my heart will be met with ammunition and retreat. This intoxication is enveloping, and I feel the hangover coming on… I must continue to drink; I’m scared about what happens next.

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