This Is Not Love, This Is Infatuation

If the eyes are the window to the soul, I find peace when I garner the strength to look into your eyes. I’m always afraid that if I look too long, if I spend just a half second too much, you’ll know exactly how I feel about you. You’ll know that when I get up in the morning, you are my first thought. That in the midday, I am reminiscing all of our memories. And that by night, my body aches for you. But this is not love. This is infatuation. 

Your smile sends shivers down my spine. That beautiful smile, that is always on the verge of laughter. Sometimes it hurts in a good way just seeing the curves of your mouth form like that. No matter what the day has brought me, whether pain or pleasure, when you look at me with that smile, my world changes for the better. And sometimes I wonder, now that I’ve seen this smile, how will I ever be able to live without it.

Your hands feel like a touch of heaven, when you caress me, when you hold me, when you stroke my hair and touch my face, I have to remind myself to breathe. Your hands are strong but gentle, when they tenderly touch my body, drawing me closer to you. How do you do that? How do you make me feel so safe, so wanted? And every time you take my hands and put them into yours, it feels like I’m being saved from a brokenness I didn’t know I had.

Your edges are a work of art; your body, a masterpiece. Just being in your presence makes me feel a weakness I never knew I was capable of. A weakness that leaves me terrified, in awe, in wonder. Being without you at any moment of the day, makes me feel deprived. And only when I see those eyes, when I see that smile, when you take me with those hands, do I feel like myself again.What is this? Well, this is not love. No, not yet. But this is worse. This is infatuation. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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