In real love there is no relationship, because there are not two persons to be related to. In real love there is only love, a flowering, a fragrance, a melting, a merging. Only in egoistic love are there two persons, the lover and the loved. And whenever there is the lover and the loved, love disappears. Whenever there is love, the lover and the beloved both disappear into love. -Osho
I fall into love so quickly, it makes me nauseously dizzy.
Male or female, I’ll find qualities I want to study and absorb. Brown eyes, from hazel to green and now blue. There’s a record collection of laughs and chuckles stored away for nostalgic days. Mental pictures of the sun cascading onto their skin on the car ride home, and of the faces they make when they’re brushing their teeth. Words they’ve spoken and sentences they’ve formed linger long enough for me to still be affected by them days, years, decades later. Every person I’ve admired is categorized by favorite colors, birth signs, hobbies, songs, fears and drug preference. From charming, to musician, to artist, to specialist, to writer.
I fall out of love so quickly, it makes it easier for me to fall in love again even quicker.