Infatuation

I used to say screw love, but no. Screw infatuation. That's what messes me up. Every time. Love is a delicate thing for me. It's not a rushed process; it should come gradually and stay. Infatuation makes me think, "the world is OK because of them." Love makes me think," the world is showing me that it's OK by letting me be with them." Honestly, I think infatuation is a stronger process. I will never forget my infatuations. I'll never forget how it feels to have your world whirling around you as if you are the sun and everything in your life is on the earth below zooming in circles around you but never having it touch you. I will never forget the alarming feeling that everything is wonderful and infinite and that this is the best you've seen. "But this too shall pass" your brain secretly says while you lay in bed waiting for them to text or call. Infatuation is beautiful. It romanticizes the entire world; it makes the world feel safe. But just as your brain tried to warn you, this too does pass, making your life stop. The swirling earth you have come to watch from afar becomes oh too real as the sun throws you off and forces you back. The infinity is gone and all that is wonderful is gone too. The crazy feeling that the world is OK because of them really screws you up now...   There you are, without them, and the far too short infatuation is over. I don't say screw love. I say screw infatuation for infatuation is what hurts more. Infatuation let's you learn to fly and then lets go in an instant. At least with love, you see the whole world before you fall.