This time, you are not superficially passing by people’s life anymore. You make the conscious call on which bridges to build or which bridges to burn; decide that you are not obliged to burn out your own fire to light up someone else’s fire.
Lust occurs more often than love, but when it catches up to you, it catches you off guard. With your nimble fingers, like a map, you will trace his body like a road trip, marking the landmarks as you go, getting lost, finding your way back home.
Is there an expiration date for feelings? How can we feel so much one day then decide we don’t feel anything the next day?
Traveling cured my writer’s block. Meeting you fueled me with the perspectives that I have never thought of.