When love leaves you, the world moves slower, day by day. There is no jolt of excitement, no influx of texts to look forward to, no after work or school plans to make. There is just the notion of existing and the banal pattern of routines, of breathing in and out, wondering what the intent of life is anyway.
When love is here, there is intent and reason. There is a reason to wake up every morning. There are unfinished conversations from the night before to resume and new ones to begin. There is a reason to communicate, someone to share a story, event or thought with, no matter how trivial or insignificant.
When love is here, you observe the time too frequently in anticipation of seeing them next. You imagine the comfort of their arms and the reassurance of their embrace. You anticipate their touch, the moment your lips…
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