i yearn for the kind of connection where you can sit for hours talking about life, fears, secrets, everything and nothing. where both of you feel safe enough to be completely known.
La verdadera intimidad no es hablar todo el tiempo, sino mirarse de una forma tan propia y construida que cualquiera que les preste atención, reconozca inmediatamente la atmósfera de jeroglífico como el lenguaje predilecto de dos que disfrutan en secreto de su complicidad.
remembering him comes in flashbacks and echoes, tell myself it's time now gotta let go. but moving on from him is impossible when I still see it all in my head
Justo cuando comenzaba a ser un poco más realista con el amor, decidí leer las cartas que le escribió Kafka a Milena.
Que viva en amor dramático, cursi y desquiciado.
There is something insanely romantic about finding the one person on earth whose specific brand of madness mirrors yours. Not just “we like the same films” compatibility, no. We are talking another realm.
Actual nervous system alignment + crazy alignment + skill alignment + willingness to go all the way alignment.
Same danger tolerance + same skill+ same devotion to the plot. AND THEY LOVE U TOO
Some people live 120 years and never touch that kind of aliveness.